The Forgetful Reincarnation
by ErinNovelist
Summary: After the final battle, Merlin gathered his magic and cast a spell to bring everyone who was a part of destiny back so that they could aide Arthur. A thousand years later, the reincarnations are born again, but things did not turn out as planned. Everyone except Merlin remembers. They must get him to recall the past in order to face the newest threat before time runs out.
1. Prologue

**(c) January 2013  
**

* * *

**Prologue  
**_"There's not garuntee that this will be easy.  
It's not a miracle you need, believe me.  
I'm no angel, I'm just me, but I will be endlessly."  
- Endlessly by The Cab  
_

* * *

There are_ legends._

They say that Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King, was the greatest leader that Europe had ever seen until he fell at the Battle of Camlann. They say that Merlin, the most powerful sorcerer, served as his protector and advisor, eventually succumbing to the enchantment of the Lady of the Lake, dying in the Crystal Cave. They say that Morgana Pendragon, better known as Morgan Le Fay, was the wicked witch who stole Excalibur from her brother, later reconciling and taking him to his final resting place. They say that Queen Guinevere, the love of Arthur's life, betrayed him with his most loyal knight, effectively leading to his downfall. They say the Knights of the Round Table served their king valiantly, although some turned on him in the worst possible ways.

They tell the stories of so many individuals, from King Uther Pendragon to the Lady of the Lake, who created the legends we still speak of today.

They say that when the world is in need of their Once and Future King, he will return – whether to set the world right or repeat the events of the past. They say it is his destiny.

There are legends, but they are _wrong_.

Yes, the legends are_ real_.

In truth, Albion _did_ exist, but the events and characters surrounding its creation and prosperity are completely different. The true story was warped and twisted through time, changes falling with each tongue's retelling, until it was unrecognizable to even those who had a vague idea of the correct history. Those who have heard the truth, though, know better than to believe the modern culture's lies.

They say that Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King, united all five kingdoms as one nation, the golden age the poets spoke of, the land of Albion. They say that Merlin, the greatest warlock ever known, the Emrys of the prophecies, aided, guided, and protected the Once and Future King so that his destiny could be achieved. They say that Morgana Pendragon, the counterpart of the powerful Emrys, had her destiny intertwined with the Once and Future King's all on her own accord. They say that Guinevere, the Once and Fture Queen, shaped the Once and Future King so that he would always remain pure of heart. They say that the Knights of the Round Table fought valiantly in the Once and Future King's name so that his reign would be long and prosperous.

They know how it all started – and how it all ended.

King Uther Pendragon began the story, harnessing a hostile outlook towards magic and all sorcerers; he hunted down all magical creatures during the Great Purge. Arthur Pendragon was born of magic, his mother perishing as a side effect, and became the greatest king ever known, overcoming prejudice to right the world as a fair and just land. Guinevere was his Once and Future Queen, but before that, she was a mere serving girl, the daughter of a blacksmith, the maid of the beautiful Lady Morgana. Morgana Pendragon was the half-sister of King Arthur, unknowingly the secret daughter of Uther, and she possessed great magical abilities but corrupted by the power it brought, eventually succumbing to fate's predestined plans. Merlin wasn't the old man of legend but rather a farm boy from a village called Ealdor, born of magic and the last Dragonlord, the manservant of the King who later was revealed to be the great Emrys who protected his King to the end. The Knights of the Round Table were as noble as they were originally portrayed but not all had noble blood and they swore loyalty to the King, always placing their lives at risk for the King.

The legends themselves spoke of heroic tales and bloody battles, but the ending of the story, above all else, is the most misunderstood. In the end, it is said that King Arthur died at the hands of Mordred in the Battle of Camlann; what happens after that was a mystery to all. Some believe he was transformed into a raven for all of eternity; the hopeful few swear that Arthur's body was hidden in a magical cave, only to reawaken when Britain is in need of their beloved king once more.

The truth of the matter was that Mordred mortally wounded Arthur at Camlann and was killed afterwards by the King himself, but Camelot's ruler did not die on the battlefield. He was escorted to the Lake of Avalon to be healed by his faithful servant and friend, Merlin, but the two were too late, and Merlin sent Arthur on a boat into Avalon. However, a regretful Morgana intercepted them on their journey, tears falling at the realization of what she had done, never getting the chance to be forgiven for her deeds after a plea of redemption (it was later understood that the witch had been enchanted by her sister, Morgause, and ultimately lost herself along the way, finally breaking the curse when she truly cried tears of remorse at Mordred's death). Merlin, unknowing of her switch of loyalties, ran her through with Excalibur; however, after witnessing the truth, he placed her alongside her half-brother in Avalon.

In a last ditch effort by the young warlock as an attempt to save Arthur, heal his wounds, and bring about the Golden Age of Albion as his Court Sorcerer, the faithful protector by his King's side. But something went wrong: it didn't pour life into the dying Arthur but rather brought the _promise of life_ of for everyone. Fearing that he had failed destiny, Merlin performed the most powerful spell he could, using all of his magic to save the fading destiny all his friends and allies were meant to share. His magic weaved an intricate web into fate's stitch work, setting about the turn of events so that, upon death, all the legendary figures - all of Arthur's friends, allies, and enemies - would return in a time when the fulfillment of destiny could be performed.

The spell was so complex and complicated that it took all of his magic, including his very own soul because in all sense _Merlin_ was _magic_, to complete. The young warlock died after he breathed the last word of his spell, crystal orbs flashing a molten gold before fading forever as Merlin joined Arthur and Morgana in Avalon, only to open nearly two thousand years later when the souls were reincarnated, setting about a new destiny.

The prophetic events happened _differently_ than originally believed.

The Once and Future King would return, but instead of him alone with his immortal sorcerer, the rest of his past would accompany him.

Arthur Pendragon, the King of the forgotten Camelot, would return as the golden child, the son of a millionaire lawyer. The fair-haired, wide-eyed warrior was now Bradley.

Guinevere, always remembered but had her good name twisted by the deads of Shaded Lancelot, would return as the roommate of the once beloved Lady. The dark-haired beauty was now Angel.

Morgana, the seductive and corrupted with, would return as the adopted daughter of Anthony, the once King Uther, brother of Bradley, and successful college student. The all-powerful sorceress was now Katie, whose destiny would be of her own accord this time.

The Knights of the Round Table, the loyal warriors and protectors of Camelot, would return attempting to find their own unique future and gather together amidst one another. The friends and sometimes sworn-enemies were now strong and independent brothers, trying to gather their lost family.

And Merlin, the renowned Emrys of Albion, would return as the outcast, the homeless boy who is just trying to make ends meet. The loyal and pure-hearted manservant was now a cold-hearted survivor, Colin.

The return of the legendary figures will only raise warning bells for the now extinct Albion and the rest of the oblivious world. Their return signals the return of numerous enemies and allies alike, all attempting to unite against or alongside the source of magic which brought them all back.

Merlin had done it; he had ended the legend, but nothing would turn out the way he imagined. In the future, Albion was gone; magic was forgotten; and the memories were too well hidden to be remembered.

Did the legend even have a chance to be continued?

* * *

**My dearest readers,**

****This was originally my second Merlin fanfiction that had been in the making since late April, early May of 2012. I have written drafts and drabbles alike to fit this new world such as my **Winter companion series** that you can find in my profile which explain the modern stories of Arthur, Morgana, and Lancelot as well as some glimpses of Merlin. I warned before that the content of the prologue was subject to change back in July, and now that Season 5 has premiered and is done with, thus ending the Merlin series, I needed my own way of healing the frayed strings of the the journey. The journey of Merlin is not over for me, because Merlin was still waiting, but the ending brought forth this story idea I began so long ago and I edited the prologue to fit my AU ending of season 5. For me, just for clarification, as Merlin and Arthur struggled to get to Avalon, Morgana cried over Mordred's grave, true tears of remorse for what happened, that she broke an enchantment Morgause had placed before in order to corrupt her and mold her into the evil High Priestess. I feel like her character deserved more, so I had her, in this AU ending, track Arthur and Merlin down, trying to help, but ends up getting killed by Merlin, and on her death bed, explain what happened, prompting Merlin to give her a proper resting and a chance for a better future. In the end, Merlin tried to save Arthur, regardless of what Kilgarrah said and ended up casting the Reincarnation Spell that extended far beyond his limit and ultimately killed him.

Anyways, I hope you read. Reviews are even easier to write with that little box down there, so please take the time to comment, and I hope you all enjoy.

**Erin**

**P.S. **I used the actors' names in this story for my own sake because I hate the idea of naming Merlin reincarnations after their past lives - it just doesn't make sense. So, when they do remember, I will address them as their past lives consistently, though, I promise.


	2. Destiny's Call

**Author's Note  
**

Thanks for reading this story, and I am pleased to announce the newest chapter. It might be a little slow to get into, and I know some of you will have questions and may be confused about what's happening, so please PM me if necessary. I will answer any and all questions that I can. A quick reminder is that I am addressing the character's in this story as their modern names until it is clear that they remember and then I will transfer the names into the Camelot ones. If you need a list of whose who to keep track here it is:

In this chapter, Richard is Gaius. Caroline is Hunith. Alice is Queen Ygraine. Pauline is Alice from "Love in the Time of Dragons". Tony is Uther Pendragon. Bradley is Authur Pendragon. Tom is just Tom, father of Elyan and Guinevere. Hope that clears up the confusion for the most part.

Enjoy the chapter, and please review. All reviewers get a cookie, and I try to reply to everyone of you :) I like to hear what you thought of the chapter, what you didn't like, any questions or concerns, your favorite parts, and any suggestions/comments about my writing in general. Alright, I've kept you long enough, and if you bothered to read this, thank you.

Onto the chapter,

Erin

* * *

**(c) January 21, 2013 - Idom  
**

* * *

**Chapter One  
**_"Is it over yet? Can I open my eyes?  
Is this as hard as it gets?  
Is this what it feels like to really cry?"  
-Cry by Kelly Clarkson_

* * *

Richard had never been sentimental guy.

He often let a Christmas pass without a word of holiday greeting to his patients, and once, when he had been married to Pauline, their anniversary went unnoticed. Fortunately, no one placed much blame on the then forty-seven-year-old, having spent most of his life engaged to his career as a doctor in central New York City at Westside Memorial. Fresh out of medical school, he had settled in an apartment with his fiancée turned wife and served long hours and endless nights on call for those in need. Pauline happened to own a private clinic across the city, so she shared the same passion for medicine as well as the same time schedule.

Nonetheless, Richard regretted his occasional lapse in feeling every so often, especially during one frigid night in early December, shortly after his forty-seventh birthday, when a drunken semi-driver collided with a taxi cab on the corner of Wall Street.

It was such an evening when Richard's regrets became a permanent fixture in his heart as Pauline's heart monitor flat lined, the bellowing screech audible in the waiting room where the widowed spouse now stood, his wife the only victim of the accident. Though twenty-two years eventually passed, starting with Richard taking over his wife's clinic and proceeding onwards, he always desired a certain day back. When you love someone, Richard swore, you must let it be known each and every day or the person will be nothing more than a worthless figment in the back of your mind. Granted he developed such a philosophy after Pauline, it carried him through the long hours and endless nights afterwards.

Shortly after Pauline left his life, the first memory struck.

At first, images ran like a picture movie across his mind's eye, seeming like a hallucination of a visual and auditory delusion. It was uncanny what his overworked brain could imagine after forty years without some form of rest. The concept of sleep was lost on him, Pauline used to joke, and when the memories first began, they came when his head finally hit the pillow after hours of constant surveillance and attention, so he paid them no heed in the beginning. The dreams, however, continued to crash upon him. They flooded his mental senses until he bolted up in bed, blankets askew, sweat lining his brow.

The memories soon took over his conscious hours as well. From dawn to dusk, he heard the murmured incantations, smelled the burning flesh stemming from a pyre, felt the lingering effects of nonexistent magic leaving his fingertips, and saw the full-tooth grin of the long forgotten ward he swore to always protect.

_Merlin_.

Thoughts of the young boy who lived with his heart on his sleeve and saw the goodness in all aspects of the world haunted him. For the next few months, he remembered the life he had once lived and accepted that he was living once more. They showed his thriving position as Camelot's court physician, Alice (Pauline in this life) striding at his side. He remembered King Uther Pendragon's request and the Great Purge that followed, all the while aiding his loved ones in escape and cradling the newborn Arthur to his chest, the only proof that Ygraine once lived. Hunth's tears as she came to him for confirmation of the child growing inside her womb shortly after Balinor was forced to flee Ealdor. The near-death experience the naïve, young boy named Merlin had saved him from. The fire separating him from his ward's body years later as Camelot almost descended into chaos – the haunting stares of Merlin, Arthur, and Morgana burned into his mind.

He remembered it all, and he took it in stride. By then, Richard had accepted that he was Gaius and that Pauline was Alice, and this time around, fate had granted him some time with his beloved before wrenching her from his life. He never reacted to the memories, just soaking it up, fondly looking back on the blessings he had before, never acting upon it until the blinding smile of Ygraine met his eyes, shimmering tears of joy streaking her rosy cheeks, a mere three years after the first memory.

Two months since the conception planned for centuries, Ygraine (more commonly known as Alice in this life) had seemingly no lingering idea of past events and no chance to wonder if they were to repeat. Even her strong, strapping husband, Tony, showed no signs of recognition when he met Gaius's handshake with a firm and unyielding grip. The future, Gaius feared, that would mimic their past lives began to unfold, leaving the doctor with his gut twisting into knots. It would be seven months – a full two hundred and seventeen days – before the Once and Future King was reborn.

Some time later, Gaius stood over the couple's suggestions of names for their baby boy, contently relinquishing his thoughts on their blissful ignorance. Perhaps there was a chance that Arthur wouldn't have to go through the hardships originally predicated for the second time around. However, he would never forget the hollow thud of his heart when Ygraine narrowed the choices down to Arthur or Bradley, pleading Tony to pick the final outcome. Gaius failed to notice Tony's flinch on the name "Arthur" as he settled for Bradley straight away.

Gaius instead focused on Ygraine's preparation for a comfortable delivery which would lead to her last moment before leaving her beloved husband for a second and final time.

In the first few months of her pregnancy, Gaius grew close to the family and tried to pretend that the events would not repeat themselves. He kept reminding himself that if Ygraine's reincarnation survived, which it appeared she would, all would be well. Part of him strayed to the existence of said woman in the first place: how did they all end up back here?

Gaius knew that Merlin cast a spell on the shores of Avalon to "save his destiny". Perhaps Merlin's spell intertwined complexity within the magic, and instead of saving lives, it created them, and ended up weaving too many lives into the spell, ultimately bringing back everyone ever involved in Merlin's destiny which included Ygraine and Alice and Uther. It was more than the lives, Gaius thought, that Merlin, if he did know what he was doing, intended for. The warlock had unintentionally promised another chance at life for almost everyone in the Arthurian legend. Perhaps this particular reason caused all of his ward's magic to pool into one specific spell, draining him of all strength necessary for survival.

He died after that spell, Gaius recalled, slumped over the physician, struggling to breath as he joined Arthur and Morgana who passed before him merely minutes before.

To simply life without his surrogate son passed by bleak and colorless would diminish the meaning Merlin had in Gaius's life. Without Merlin, the world seized to spin, just emptiness on an axis; after that fateful day, he counted the days till he would see his ward at the Gates of Avalon. However, when the scythe finally slashed upon him, he snapped his eyes shut and awoke in the dark bedroom as Richard, remembering everything. It never fazed him; in all actuality, it never bothered whether he was Gaius or Richard – he was still the same person. His soul stemmed from either essence. He accepted the memories as a part of him, but as Gaius or Richard, he still didn't have Merlin with him.

Gaius knew the other reincarnations would eventually remember when Ygraine lay on the hospital bed, fighting for the right to even breathe. She was given the newborn Bradley to hold during the last few seconds and her eyes widened in astonishment, running a blood-stained finger across her son's cheek. His bottom lip quivered but he refused to cry. She held on longer than expected, allowing no one to force her to give up her hold until she was truly ready to die. Even when she drifted into conscious and her heart began to fail, the tight grasp remained on her son; no one was able to pull him away until she was gone. Yet she still clung to Bradley as a lifeline when Tony reached for him from his mother's cold embrace.

It was then, when Bradley and Tony were both touching her that she whispered with her last breath: "I remember, Uther."

Gaius realized that Tony, King Uther himself, did as well as he lowered his lips to Ygraine's cold ones. "I do too, my love. I have for a while. I will do it right this time. I swear on your life I shall do it right." Gaius didn't have the heart to tell Uther that she couldn't hear him.

Gaius left the widow and his son to mourn the loss of Ygraine, and he pictured Uther's wrath as he lashed out at magic last time around. In the present, however, he took it all with a stern grief, choosing to suffer in silence for the inevitable occurrence. Destiny may have given them a second chance but not in this particular scene. Gaius returned some time later to remove Bradley from Uther's care in order to place him with the nurses to be checked over. The man wordlessly gave the babe over and as the doctor turned to leave, he cleared him throat.

"You couldn't save her this time either," he stated.

Gaius met his far-off gaze. "It appears so. I am sorry for your loss, Mr. James. Alice grew close to me during these past seven months; I too share in your grief."

"Her name was Ygraine. I know you remember." Gaius nodded, and the younger man sighed. "As do I, Gaius."

"How long have you known?"

"Long enough to know what I did was wrong." Gaius was curious as to what changed Uther's view on magic and prevented him from going into a blind rage this time.

Uther seemed to read the doctor's mind and he let a wry smile slip onto his face. "Magic is eradicated from the realm, Gaius; it can't corrupt anyone. I can't blame Ygraine's death on a sorcerer this time. Besides, I know it was magic that brought us back, and it proved to be a good thing… Tell me do you know which sorcerer is responsible for a such a thing?"

Gaius blew out a hesitant breath and stated with pride, "My ward, Merlin, was a warlock. He gave us all a second chance without knowing so. You have him to thank." It was only a matter of minutes, he assumed, before Uther would burst out in accusations of betrayal for the false ally in the war against magic back in Camelot. Before he had time to prepare himself, though, Bradley opened his eyes, looked directly at Gaius with a look of an aged soul. It took the doctor's breath away, and he cradled the newborn close. He knew that look. Bradley was Arthur Pendragon.

Uther's voice broke through his thoughts. "He was like a son to you, wasn't he? That boy."

Merlin's last smile staid with Gaius, etched in his memories forever, the ones of the rave boy who gave up his life for all he cared for and believed in. Every night he pressed his head against the pillow, and the warlock accompanied his dreams; the final image was always his farewell smile.

"He was."

Uther nodded, comprehension dominating his features; still shaken from his wife's death, he was tempted to place the blame on whatever aspect of life he could, just like he did before, calling magic out as a scape goat. He wanted to go through the motions, leaving the rest of the world behind. "I understand why you kept this from me. No father can ever watch their son suffer." Gaius raised his head in surprise. "I… I wish to apologize, Gaius, for everything I did. I was blinded by rage and grief at the loss of Ygraine…" Uther choked on his words, tears shining in the corners of his eyes. "So many people were killed at my hand… Innocents, Gaius. I murdered hundred, and I will live with that for the rest of my life." His gaze softened as he spared a quick glance at Bradley. "I regret many things, but I promise, this time it will all be different. For example… I will be a better father."

At these final words, Uther resigned himself to sit beside Ygraine, lost in his memories of better days. Gaius made a leave from the delivery room and towards the nursery; Bradley squirmed slightly in his arms. In truth, the mention of his and Merlin's past relationships sparked tears to prick in the doctor's eyes; he was attacked by a wave of sandess as he handed the baby to a nurse. Now, more than ever, he longed for his ward's presence, calling upon all the magic in the world to bring his reincarnation forward.

As the grief ripped through him, Gaius's silent plea echoed into Avalon.

_Merlin._

Across the world, a mighty dragon answered with a deafening roar. Destiny had, once again, begun.

* * *

**Two Years Later**

* * *

His hot breath tickled her neck as the olive-toned hand stroked the sweat-tangled curls, the moment repetitive in order to sooth the flailing woman. His throaty chuckled reverberated off of the interior of the taxi cab, sending tremors of relief through her body, hitching as the pain rippled across her lower abdomen. He laid is hand on her stomach so he could feel her contractions, counting the seconds to soothe her.

"Let me know when the next one hits, alright, Caroline?" His toffee eyes met her own dull, steel-blue ones over her bents knees, holding a glimmer of excitement for the miracles of birth he was witnessing. "Your water already broken, so it won't be much longer."

"How… How do you know… so much?" she gasped out through gritted teeth, gulping as the pain stole away her ability of speech.

He needed and reached down to grasp her hand in a reassuring manner. "My daughter was born last year; it just so happened to be in the back of a cab as well. What can I say? New York traffic sucks."

Before she could form an answer, she let out a loud cry and pulled her hand away from the man who had convinced the taxi driver to pick up a pregnant woman on the streets of New York City on New Year's Eve. On the late December night, a blizzard struck the unsuspecting citizens, the snow sprinkling around them in heavy amounts. The woman had felt the first contractions begin when she stepped out of her apartment building, and she bolted to the sidewalk, eager for a taxi to transport her to hospital for the awaited occasion nine months in the making. However, the storm made travel near impossible and traffic had piled back for miles on end, stranding her in the heart of the city about to give birth to a baby.

Thankfully, a kind Samaritan had pulled up alongside her as a contraction took control, forcing her to double over with a low moan. Understanding the current situation, he escorted her into the waiting car. They were fighting through traffic, but it was obvious the baby would be born on a New York street in the back of a filthy taxi.

The woman grabbed her knees as the urge to push became overwhelming; the stranger murmured low words of encouragement, and the taxi driver grimaced from the position behind the man who was between the woman's legs, guiding the newborn into the world as the woman lounging across the backseat delivered it. The driver had flung the door open the man took charge of her labor, retrieving the necessities from a department store traffic had conveniently paused alongside of. He had braked the car, and now, the chorus of impatient horns sounded with frustration at the late evening. Having been New Years, it was no wonder chaos ensued.

"The baby's head is out," the man announced, tilting it to the side to allow any fluid in the mouth to escape. A tuft of raven hair was already visible; it mirrored its mother. "Just a few more pushes, Caroline, and it'll be over soon."

She bore down again, and the right shoulder was dislodged, and he placed his hands on it to guide it out steadily. When Caroline let out a shriek after another push, he twisted the left side and managed to free the other shoulder in a matter of seconds. Another contraction sparked the loudest cry, and Caroline bore down one last time and with a gush of fluid, the infant was free. The wailing began from the baby and the man used the scissors the driver handed over and severed the umbilical chord; another minute passed, and she delivered the afterbirth. The driver let out a disgusted groan, but the man ignored the reaction and swaddled the baby in a soft blanket before placing it in Caroline's frail arms.

"Congratulation: you have a baby boy."

She shook her head in defiance, not accepting of her son. "Get him away from me. Take him. Give him to the hospital. I don't care."

"It's your son!" the man retorted, flabbergasted by Caroline's reaction. The driver shimmied into the front of the taxi, closing the door, and put the car in gear, trying to get the woman to the hospital. Traffic seemed to be moving along better, and they were five minutes from the hospital.

"Mister-"

"Tom."

"Tom, you don't understand. I can't take care of him. And if he turns out to have his father's talents- then… There's no hope. Please, I can't give him a good life. Put him in foster care, take him as your own – I don't care. Anywhere is better than with me."

"I'm not doing that."

Caroline dug into her purse, breathing heavily, sweat-soaked hair plastered across her face. She fumbled for a moment before raising a pocket knife in a trembling hand; the man held the baby close, pulling away in horror. She shook her head, insistent on the demand. "Take him."

Tom looked down upon the bundle which had seized its shrieking cries, staring at him with an alert expression. It startled him for he knew it was impossible for infants to truly focus on their surroundings such as this one appeared to be, almost pleading him to trust his instincts. Once his thoughts drifted to the newborn and a quick glance at the worn-out mother, he settled on his decision. Hastily reaching into his jacket pocket, he withdrew a few crumbled bills and placed them in Caroline's hands. She nodded in understanding, knowing full on that Tom would obey her wishes. With unsteady hands, she reached towards her son, wanting to stroke his forehead as a final farewell, but at the last second, she snatched her hand away.

She would regret it for the next two decades.

Tomcast a look of disgust as she put the knife at her side. "Why are you doing this?" he questioned as he pulled the boy closer to him for warmth. When Caroline ducked her head from view, he sighed to himself. "Take the money and get your life together." He shook his head, pitying the woman's rash decision. "Someday, you're going to want to him back. I guarantee it."

Crystal eyes locked with her baby's. "Just take him."

"We're here," the driver state, and both people in the back jumped in surprise, having forgotten where they were.

Tom followed the command, wrenching the door open, the frigid air embracing the remaining occupants' dazed forms, and bolted down the sidewalk to the emergency room. With a shaky breath, Caroline raised her hand to the transparent glass, the only barrier between she and her son as she watched him disappear for what she thought would be forever.

"Take me to Dr. Wilson's clinic on fourteenth street, please," she begged, feeling the throbbing increase with her exhaustion. She could no loner see Tom and her baby. She whispered a final goodbye as the cab shifted gears. "Take care. May the gods watch over you, Merlin."

The flash of recognition faded as quickly as the old memories stirred. Hunith of Ealdor had changed destiny. This time around – Emrys would have no one.

* * *

Gaius reclined in his desk hair, fingers drumming a rhythmic tune on the oak wood tabletop, attempting to pulling himself from the consuming thoughts he was faced with. The image of Caroline – Hunith – arriving with blood trailing down her legs, staining her garments and his floor, the familiar sight of her once toned stomach bulging as if pregnant. His worse fears were erupting as he ushered her into his office, knowing who she once was and the person she was destined to give birth too. However, the blood caused his heart to swell and choke off his air supply. Nothing could happen to Merlin's reincarnation or the world was doomed. When he checked her over, the horrid truth was revealed as tears streamed down his and Hunith's face.

"I gave birth in the back of a cab," she stammered, "The baby was dead."

Gaius closed his eyes, unable to believe her story. "Where is the boy, Caroline?"

"With his father." Gaius didn't need any further explanation; he knew where the boy's father was.

Eventually, he cleaned her and set her in an adjourning room to keep watch throughout the night, his body numbing and thoughts still. Within five hours, when he dozed in his office, he later learned, Hunith had escaped back to her apartment and packed her belongings and then fled the city, leaving Gaius with no connection to his ward whatsoever. What was left was a single envelope sitting on the window. Quickly, he opened it and saw her cursive, elegant scrawling. He had been unable to read it at the time, choosing to return to his office where he had privacy and tensed before dwelling within.

_Gaius,_

He swallowed a lump in his throat. She remembered.

_Gaius,_

_I know the turn of events much be a shock to you. My son's death has taken a toll on me, and I must leave before I break completely. I imagine it's as difficult for you as well. I would give anything to have spared you the grief and sadness that I'm feeling. After all, it hurts even the second time around, considering he was once your ward. _

Even though he mourned the loss of destiny, he still was in shock that Hunith remembered and had never spoken of it the night before. She must have understood the devastation the baby's death would cause, hence leaving the elderly man with no explanation as to why she choose to dispose of the body where the father was – at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. Why not give him a proper burial though, especially considering the events in their past lives?

_For the past few months, I have been struck with vivid memories of life in Ealdor, and I remembered how I reacted to news of Merlin's death and the words I wished I could have told him. You wouldn't understand, though, because it was you who held him in your arms, reassuring him in his last moments. Please bear with me when I tell you that I needed to deal with my baby on my own terms. I don't regret it, even though I knew you would want to see him one last time._

_Gaius, it wasn't an easy choice to make. I know I should have brought his body back to you, but you must understand. I loved my son – in both lives. One because he was the only thing I had left of dear Balinor, my dear John. I know that love at first sight is a stupid idea since when I met John I was twenty-two and had stupid ideas of what love was, but I knew instantly from the moment I met him that he was the man I would love forever. I still do. I will continue to love him till the day I die and onto the next life if I have one. A thousand years may separate us, but my feelings will never change. I want to thank you for bringing John into my life. Because of you, you made us so happy up until the end._

Gaius closed his eyes as the sudden predication of what direction the letter as heading hit him full force. He knew that as Hunith, she had wanted Merlin to be buried near his father even after he had told her of his death and resting place along the shores of Avalon with his father. He inhaled deeply as he forced himself to continue her letter.

_When John and I were together, it was really something incredible. We had so little, but yet all we really needed was each other. When he was called out of the Witness Protection Program, we thought we could have it all. That man would be put away forever because he murdered those people. With that horrible man gone, we cold get married and start a family. But the day John was killed in court returned all my dreams. I was lost, Gaius; it was Balinor all over again. Somehow, though, much like before, I was left with a part of him after he was already gone._

_At first, through the nine months I carried Merlin, all I could think about was how I could provide for him, keep him safe, give him everything he needed. But the moment I came for the ultrasound months ago, I began to have my memories._

_And it scared me even more._

_There was a reason John survived the first attempt on his life. He had magic, Gaius, and I knew that my son would have it too. In the past, he suffered so much because of it, and I couldn't let that happen. Magic took him away from me in the end, and even if he weren't dead today, I wouldn't have let destiny have him. I told myself I would keep him away from everything this time. You were the one who held him in the end, not me. You were with him when he was in pain or had fears and insecurities or when he thrived. Because Merlin had magic, I couldn't be there for him. I'm not sure I could have been there for him this time too._

_In the end, I wanted it to just be my son and me.. Last time, you had him. This time I held him. Last time, you buried him with his friends. This time I buried him with his father. I know I should have brought him to you, but I needed it to just be a peaceful and silent rest. I wanted to spare him the pain he would have had if he met you and everyone else in his destiny. I'm not happy he's dead, but I want you to know he's better off as._

_Thank you for everything, Gaius. I will never forget you or your kindness._

_Hunith_

_P.S. Don't try to find me. I want to get away from everything._

Gaius placed the note on his desk, eyes glazed over with sheen of tears. He vowed himself not to cry, but a single droplet dripped down his face. He wanted to deny the letter's existence, but in doing so, he'd lose the one link he had to Merlin. He couldn't believe it. Destiny was meant to continue; Arthur was here, and Merlin, for a short time, had as well. It didn't make sense, though. How could the person who caused all of this die before beginning it? The doctor reclined in his chair, placing his head in his hands, rubbing his temples to relieve the throbbing headache. There was no guarantee about the future anymore. If Merlin wasn't alive, how would destiny continue? The legends spoke that when Albion's need was greatest, Arthur would rise again. Gaius knew that it was unachievable without Merlin.

He had to do something. There had to be a solution. Internally, his heart picked up speed, and the answer flooded through his veins for the first time in centuries, a millennia even. Destiny appeared to have wanted to right itself; with or without Merlin, Gaius realized, destiny would continue. He didn't have another choice. There had to be someone on this Earth who remembered, who knew of what was to come.

Gaius had to find someone. A Seer. The next prophet. Perhaps a dragon or two. There was only one problem: it would take magic to do it. In a haste, Gaius bolted from his chair, throwing his office door open. As he stepped out into the blistery night, he had no idea where he was going. In the span of a few hours, he would follow Hunith's example and pack a bag, board a plane, and set out across the world in search for an answer – anything really.

For the first time in thousands of years, Gaius's eyes flared a deep molten gold, the magic leaving his fingertips.

All he knew is that he would find someway to jumpstart destiny. He might as well start where it all began and ended; it was time to go home.


	3. Reticent

**Arthur's Note**

**Welcome** my fellow writers, interested readers, and faithful followers! Thank you for reading this story, and I am pleased to announce the newest chapter of TFR. I had a lot of questions from the last chapter as well as many comments on what to do with the future of this story! I answered everything to the best of the ability and I really enjoyed the ideas you guys sent. I don't think many will be happy with the way this chapter ended, but once I introduce the main characters, we can concentrate on the good stuff! One of the main concerns people had last time was with Hunith. I know some were mad she was so OOC, and I tried to explain that as much as possible. You see, she was just trying to protect her son this time because she thinks he suffered too much last time because of his destiny. I promise to elaborate about this subject in the coming chapters!

In this chapter, remember. Bradley is Arthur. Tony is Uther. Katie is Morgana, and Angel is Guinevere.

**Spoilers for Season 5 in this chapter. **

Enjoy the chapter, and please review. All reviewers get a cookie, and I try to reply to everyone of you :) I like to hear what you thought of the chapter, what you didn't like, any questions or concerns, your favorite parts, and any suggestions/comments about my writing in general. Also, I'll give the reviewers a shout out next chapter and perhaps some shameless promotion as well because you're all so wonderful. Alright, I've kept you long enough, and if you bothered to read this, thank you.

Onto the chapter,

Erin

* * *

**Chapter Two**  
_"You and me, face to face,_  
_And there's so much I could say._  
_Who needs words when forever seen the silence."_  
_- "Laserlight" by Jessie J_

* * *

When Bradley was twelve years old, his father told him the truth.

It wasn't a heart-stopping, gut-twisting revelation because the only thing which changed was that he grew closer to her, more than ever before. Honestly, even that wasn't a profound impact on the boy since she had been a part of his life for the past few years, so he already considered her a sister.

After her own father's death, Katie Fay had been taken under Tony's wing, the lawyer adopting the young girl when she was seven, three years prior. As she grew, only two years his junior, it became common to find similarities between her and his father. Bradley always assumed it was habits Katie had caught onto, even though some of her behaviors were too uncanny to believe – such as the same stubborn streak that led her and his father into many battles. However, when it came to physical features, it was even more unbelievable. He never could explain why she had the same dark features Tony did while both her parents were fair-haired and bright-eyed. Whenever the unusual observations hit, he always tried to find a logical explanation, most of the time chalking it up to the mystery of human genetics.

Even when Tony came forward, though, Bradley had a hard time believing it.

For someone who was merely twelve years of age, on the borderline of childhood innocence and reality's dreamers, he could not grasp the idea of his father ever loving someone else who wasn't his mother. Tony constantly assured him that he would always love Alice, that he never stopped, but Bradley was always quick to retort that one could not have kids if they weren't in love, hence Katie's existence.

Of course, this prompted an hour-long conversation regarding the birds and the bees.

Seven years later, Bradley had accepted Katie as his half-sister. Though he couldn't imagine how she dealt with the situation, with her guardian turning out to be a liar as well as her biological father, she appeared to have accepted him in her life as well after some time. However, that did not stop her from leaving home the first chance she got, hopping onto a plane and headed to Cambrige, nearly two hundred miles away (later, she transferred to Columbia in New York). Whatever made her leave in the first place, she at least returned, and Bradley knew he had a tight-knit family, with his sister and his father who he trusted wholeheartedly.

Bradley had a close relationship with Tony, especially after he was told the truth about Katie, and that was why Bradley kept lying to him.

You see, when Bradley was nineteen years old, his life was changed forever.

As cliché as that one statement may sound, it was that one statement which shaped his life from then on. Whenever he uttered that statement, all looked at him with an apprehensive gaze, trying to fathom what tragedy or miracle happened back then. Though he seldom breathes a word unless there's a chance they're dealing from it too, he always believed that nothing really changed; merely that he just accepted what and who he was.

It all began the morning after an argument with Tony when he awoke in a vacant hotel room. The stench of alcohol clung to his breath, and his clothes smelled of tobacco and cigarette smoke. A bag of cocaine had been setting beside him as well as a woman he had no memory of. His head throbbed to the speed of a hummingbird's heartbeat, and he stumbled around the room in a daze. He had no recollection of the night before, of what happened, or how far he went. All he knew was that days like these would eventually ruin his life.

The vague images that struck him were the piercing yells that echoed off of the walls, Katie defending him, his words of defiance. Tony had seen his acceptance letter, and Bradley blatantly told him that he was reconsidering law school to pursue an acting career. It was a stupid move, but, if there was one thing he looked up to his father for, it was for standing up for yourself. Katie jumped to her brother's defense, bellowing how it was his life and that Tony couldn't pressure him into doing something he wasn't happy with. It ended with Bradley storming from the house, unable to avoid further confrontation.

Lately, it seemed as if Tony had been pressuring his son more and more each day, reminding him that he had to be strong, be a leader. He said that people wouldn't respect you if you didn't have the strength to stand tall. Bradley honestly had no idea where the speech had come from, but, the moment he came of age, it had been constantly preached in the household that the words were forever etched in his mind. Nonetheless, Bradley took it all in, following it to the par, because this was his father and he always sought the elder's approval. Which was why he and his father never had any confrontations growing up, until the day he received his acceptance letter – they never stopped arguing since then. Bradley wished to find a common ground, but it was hard when Tony was constantly denying any sort of compromise he attempted.

The atypical predicament and constant caused Bradley to turn to his friends at the local club, drowning his sorrows in rounds of drinks and eventually falling into the god-awful drugs he had always been against. However, after that one last fight, Bradley headed to the club and fell deeper than ever before. In the morning, his beer-stained shirt clung to his torso as he stepped into the bathroom, heading straight for the toilet, succumbing himself to the hangover. Each wave of nausea that rolled over him seemed to be the final nails in the coffin, reiterating the fact that there was no going back from this.

He had finally hit his lowest point.

Admitting such a feat opened up an entire new world for Bradley, molding him into a completely different person because it opened up his memories.

As he sat, hunched over the toilet, propped on trembling hands, his body shaky from an internal earthquake, his vision began to darken, like a rush of blackness over his eyes, a blindfold – quick and fast. Hazy images danced at the forefront of his mind's eye, like a long-forgotten picture, but it seemed like he had always been able to remember. For as long as he was able to recall, the wide grin and crystal eyes, fading from the molten gold, was just part of a person he couldn't name. He didn't know who they were or where, only that in this moment in time, Bradley needed them so very desperately.

Unbeknownst to him, he had just unlocked a story of two boys that fathered a legend which was still told and honored today. It was the story of a blooming friendship that shouldn't have existed because of society's standards. It was the story of a painful past, the wounded present, and the promise of a healing future. It was a story that many had heard but only a few knew in truth. It was a story the world took as common knowledge but shattered others. This story – this legend – had been fathered long ago by an arrogant prince and a young warlock.

It just felt like he was trying to break through a wall shrouded in shadows. The memories may have faded deeply into his subconscious, but he knew they were still there, waiting to be triggered. They seemed dim and unrecognizable as he became accustomed to them all, but it only proved they were still there, always had been. If he closed his eyes and concentrated hard enough, the sound of swords clanging against one another on the training ground would echo through his head. The feel of calloused fingers putting his armor in place, adjusting the straps and handing him Excalibur. The addictive laugh that would have anyone smiling for days. The fondness he felt when the bright, blue eyes flashed with approval. These memories were _him. They were of home. _How ever could he forget them in the first place?

How could he forget _Merlin?_

Bradley needed him. _Arthur _needed him. He wanted Merlin. Where was he?

Then and there, Arthur wanted to set out into the world, eager to find his lost friend. Perhaps Merlin already remembered the past and was looking for him as well. The thought forced a lump to form in his throat, and he struggled to swallow it. He reluctantly dragged up that final memory, and he knew that Merlin couldn't function well without his presence. Arthur wondered how long he could last without Merlin by his side as well. He needed to find Merlin…

But what if Merlin had changed?

Uther certainly had, and perhaps Merlin had as well. The thought scared him. He never wanted Merlin to be someone else.

_"I don't want you to change. I want you to always be you."_

His dying wish still echoed through his head at random intervals, but it just pushed him farther to find his old friend. In the search for the warlock, Arthur often found himself wondering if Merlin's memories had come through yet. If his loyalty and kindness still existed. If a friendship was still possible if the memories hadn't been retrieved. Throughout the journey, he faced a mixture of loss but also love. Everyone knows love and loss are the exact opposites, but Arthur was proving that they could not exist without one another. Love was the feeling of benevolent concern, and loss was shameful heartbreak. In Arthur's story, the pain of loss was leading to the close healing future filled with love. He knew that since Morgana, Uther, and him were here that Merlin and Gwen and his knights would be here somewhere. His story wasn't ever meant to show the causes of his loss but rather the scars of love.

Whether the past still existed - whether the Merlin as he remembered him to be still existed - was a question yet to be answered. However, Arthur knew, that wherever the others rested, he knew he'd be right next to them soon enough. For long ago, he made Merlin a promise, and Arthur, even now, hoped that Merlin, in the deepest depths of his mind's shadow, would someday recognize he kept it.

With his memories back, Arthur tried to set his life on track. He so desperately wanted to drop everything and seek out Merlin, but something was holding him back. He couldn't leave the life he had with Uther and Morgana. His father and he had never been as close as they were now, and Morgana and him were bona-fide siblings, banters and support included. For the first time since Camelot, he didn't want things to change. Instead of rebelling against Uther, he agreed to go to Harvard and pursue a degree in law and avoided any confrontation with his father, embracing their relationship as a new beginning. He chose to obey Uther's wishes rather than add coal to the flames.

At Harvard, he met the beautiful Angel Leodegrance who worked as a waitress on the corner coffee ship he frequently vacated. When Arthur came face-to-face with the doe-brown eyes, melted chocolate plastered across her soul, the world seized to exist. It was his beloved Guinevere. He quickly became aware that she had no memory of Camelot – or of him. He longed to continue his search for Merlin, but this obstacle too precedence. Arthur, upon discovering her, took it upon himself to memorize her work schedule and set out to meet her on a regular basis. After the tenth or so meeting, he asked her out for dinner, and when she agreed, he could feel some semblance of his old life return. Having Guinevere offer her unwavering support kept his head barely above the dark waves of addiction, but to fully overcome them, he knew he needed Merlin on his side. Since he couldn't go after his old friend, though, he made it his primary mission to help her regain her memories. He assumed it would be quiet difficult.

However, much like Arthur's memories came when he was at his lowest point, hers came at her highest.

It was their tenth or so date when it happened. By then, the young couple were familiar with one another, and the initial awkwardness (on Angel's side) had vanished a while before. Arthur had been strolling along the busy metropolitan area, Angel at his side, her silver-bell chime of laughter echoing through his head and his heart. Suddenly, she took off, out of her grasp, and whirled around, eyes glinting madly. Arthur was reminded of how Guinevere used to do this in the market place, trying to force him to catch her. It was something her mother used to do to her father, and she kept the romantic gesture in the deepest crevice of her heart to forever hold. He followed along with the game, even if he was King and she was Queen, because nothing meant more to him than to make her happy.

Angel took off down the street, giggling as Arthur followed at her heels. At long last, he engulfed her and twirled her around in the middle of the sidewalk, passersby chuckling at the young couple's antics. Angel held herself with an air of self-confidence, as if she didn't care who saw her in the compromising predicament. Arthur swung her effortlessly over his shoulder, hoisting her into a position, and headed for a bench next to a bus-stop where the two could seat themselves with what they thought was privacy.

"Bradley!" she screeched in her trilling, soprano voice, flipping her head around as best she could, her dark ringlets falling into her eyes, dark lashs framing the almond-shaped orbs. "Put me down! People are staring!" The plea was drowned out by his baritone laughter.

"I thought you liked to play games," he teased, leaning back on the bench as she scampered off his shoulder and perched herself in his lap.

"You are horrible! You know I hate it when you do that," she joked, rolling her eyes in amusement.

Arthur cast an incredulous stare. "You love it when I chase you!"

She smiled. "I like it when you can't catch me. Remind me again why I put up with you."

The words rolled off his tongue before he could stop them. "Because you love me."

Both froze, and Arthur sighed to himself. He had been waiting for a while to admit that, constantly biting back his feelings since he couldn't bear to scare her away. Arthur knew quite a few things about love. He knew that somewhere in every life, there was someone from the past that one could never forget, a piece of their history which defined them and made them who they were. He knew that somewhere in every heart, there was always a way to come back to the present, an action that took over and led one home. He knew that somewhere in every word, there was a meaning that brought one to the future, a phrase which allowed them to believe in whatever they wished for. He knew that all this was true, but it also left him with many unknowns, many questions.

For example, how long would one search for that person? How long would they keep that heart? How long would they hear that word?

Or better yet, how long would one wait?

When you love someone, Arthur thought, you might as well wait forever until the questioned are answered because, in every person, heart, and word, love existed. Love was unexplainable, unpredictable, untamable, and untouchable. It had no beginning nor did it have an end. It was only living, thriving off of the person, world, and heart one harnessed. It forced them to wait for the answer.

If it was someone that you truly loved, how long would you wait?

Arthur knew that it was now or never, because, he loved her too much to wait. He had to know. He needed Guinevere. He pulled Angel down to eye level so that he could press his forehead against her own. "You know you do, Angel, don't deny it."

Angel pressed her lips together and situated herself in a proper position. She inhaled deeply before nodding her head. "Do you know what happened when I first saw you?" When Arthur made no response, she lowered gaze so that her brown eyes met his oceanic ones, sparkling with adoration. "When I first saw you, I was afraid to meet you. When I first met you, I was afraid to kiss you. When I first kissed you, I was afraid to love you. But now that I love you… I'm afraid to lose you."

Arthur captured her lips with his as the two cocooned in one another's embrace. "I promise, you will never, ever lose me."

At those words, something seemed to click for the both of them. In the next instant, Angel froze above him and the two broke away in a heartbeat. Arthur could feel it deep within himself, the change, molding and jarring of his damp, cold bones. It was like a moth to a flame as his hands grasped her wrists, holding her steady as she swayed in his lap. Yes, he was in love with her, and she was in love with him – that wasn't the life-altering revelation. What she meant to him was stronger than just lovers – Angel was his other half, his soul mate, his heart. She had sensed it too – for the first time in a millennium. It bewildered him that there was just not a word for love to fit them accurately, describing their bond that had survived a thousand years. There was no framework etched in a simple or intricate pattern for them to follow.

More than anything in the world, Arthur wanted her to remember, and in that moment, he knew she had. Now, he wanted to have her laugh again, wanted to spend every waking moment with her, wanted to love her more than ever before, wanted to make up for leaving her for Avalon, wanted to make up for the broken promises and hopeless dreams, wanted to keep her in his arms. He knew he would be strong and happier with her in his life as they both moved on from the way things ended back in Camelot. His heart felt what it wanted, and whatever he tried to do, his heart was finally complete.

He had found his Queen.

Angel raised her gaze to meet his own, eyes glazed over with so many emotions it was a wonder she could even see. A sheen of tears peered at him as she opened her mouth and spoke the first words as Guinevere of Camelot, the Once and Future Queen. "Arthur…" She was overcome with sobs, and she ducked her head from view, burying his face into his shoulder. "You… I love you. I've _missed_ you."

He swallowed a lump in his throat. "I won't leave this time, I promise."

"You _left_ me!" she said, her cries catching the attention of some walkers. Arthur hushed her and pulled her close, but she continued her rant. "You died! And Merlin… Oh,_Merlin_! Everyone I loved _died_!"

"I'm so sorry."

Arthur kept up the constant reassurances, telling her that he was here. She was his. Eventually, Gwen's tears seized, and she resigned herself to merely sit there, absorbing Arthur's presence. The two headed back to her flat downtown and spent the rest of the weekend there, immersing themselves in what they thought they had lost long before. Their relationship continued, and it grew stronger with each passing day. Never once did the two stray away from one another, they stayed close and offered everything they could. Arthur gave his strength, and Gwen gave her heart. Months passed, and the memories intermingled with their current lives, shaping them to the best of their ability.

The two were together all of the fall term, and in early December, Arthur proposed. To everyone else, it was quick and they assumed it wouldn't last, but anyone who saw the look in Arthur's eyes when he gazed upon Gwen, knew that it would continue forever. Honestly, having Guinevere in his life again occupied his thoughts, keeping Merlin away until his life was sorted out, but in the end, he still needed to find his old friend to be complete.

At the end of first term, Arthur took Gwen home to meet his father. He was hesitant because he remembered Uther's reaction to their relationship back in Camelot. However, when Arthur walked her through those maple doors at the mansion, Uther stepped forward and embraced his son's fiancée, supportive of the entire ordeal. Later on, while Gwen slumbered on in the guest bedroom, Arthur approached his father with his insecurities and sought his approval to the engagement. Uther answered honestly, that he would stand by his son with this decision because it was "clear how much Arthur loved the girl." Arthur was taken back, but he accepted the answer, taking it in full stride.

He would never know that Uther just didn't want to make the same mistake twice.

Life couldn't be better, Arthur thought. The only thing missing was Merlin himself and his knights. With that said, the nineteen-year-old knew he could have perfection with this second chance. However, all good things must come to an end, unfortunately.

Over the Christmas holiday, Arthur managed to pull away from his father and visit Katie in New York City where she was staying with a few friends. Some thought of sneaking out and taking a tour of the city, seeing if Merlin was wandering about, struck him since it was the first break he had received in months, but he was halted in his plans due to the conniving sister of his who just broke the most horrid news Arthur could have been given.

She remembered. All these months. Longer than he had.

At first, he was hurt and betrayed. Arthur's life had been perfect and effortless for most of the time he had been in New York. He took the time to confess everything to her, though, exclaiming how much pain she caused him when he was the King and she was the Lady. He took the moment to cut her down, watch her break, then slowly pick up the pieces. He offered her forgiveness, and she accepted without hesitation. At least now, Arthur mused, he had a confident other than Gwen. The two bonded quickly, though, Gwen would take a while to fully forgive Morgana. Things were looking up once more, until Morgana dropped another bombshell.

She had been having visions of Merlin, and she was almost certain she had seen him in the streets of New York some days before. Suddenly, Arthur knew he couldn't go back to Harvard. He was closer than ever before to finding his old life, and it was too much of a hassle to wake up everyday and pretend to be who he wasn't. When he left New York for home, he knew he would be coming back. He needed to find Merlin, his father be damned. Merlin was his rock, his guide, his friend, and his ally, and above all, Arthur knew he was his brother – his other half. When he arrived back in Maryland, he dropped out of Harvard and transferred to the University of Columbia, beginning his second term there, sharing an apartment with Morgana and Gwen.

He never breathed a word to Uther until the final forms had been signed and he was already enrolled.

To say his father was angry was an understatement. The older man boarded the first plane to New York City that day, storming into the apartment with wild eyes, curiosity flashing across his face. Guinevere was out and about, exploring the city while Morgana and Arthur lounged around the living room, formulating a plan in order to begin the hunt for Merlin. When Morgana answered the door to find their fuming father, she immediately plastered a smile on her face, welcoming in, but he paused, turning to face her with an eerie stare.

"Bradley, may I have a word with you?" he asked sternly, his voice portraying no emotion. He cast a long look in Morgana's direction, adding, "_Alone_."

A sense of familiarity overcame Arthur as he watched his sister disappear into her bedroom, sending him a sympathetic smile. He sighed deeply, knowing that this was going to end in flames. When she was gone from view, he faced Uther. "You should have called, told me you were coming."

"Have I taught you nothing?" Uther said, his words whipping across the room. "What made you think that you could pull a stunt like this?"

"There is nothing wrong with doing what I want," Arthur defended, crossing his arms in defiance. He wouldn't back down from this confrontation. He wished to stay close to his father – but on his own terms this time. "You said I knew what was best for me when-"

"There are times when you play childish games that convince me otherwise," he responded, striding forward until he was towering over his son. The man was seething through gritted teeth as he advanced. "We had a _plan_, Bradley! You would go to school, get your law degree-"

"-And take over the firm, I realize that," Arthur said, stepping towards his father, leveling his gaze to meet the blazing, grey eyes.

"We had this same talk before you left for school," Uther continued, "I thought you understand what I wanted-"

"But it's not always up to you. It's my life, and I decide how I get to live it."

"Have you no conscious?" Uther bellowed. "Think of what people will say. Respect must be earned, Bradley, and for you to run off to New York just to become a writer certainly does not help you in the scale of things!"

"I'm sorry for any humiliation I may have caused you, but you've…" Arthur swallowed a lump in his throat, the memories of a troll and his father, the legend long forgotten, living strong in his mind. "You've always taught me to be true to my heart, and that's all I've ever tried to do, to be the man you'd want me to be, someone to be proud of."

If the situation was familiar to Uther then he didn't show it. "This is not the way to go about doing it."

"Then you'd better back off because I'm not leaving. I'm not going back. You don't get to dictate my every move!" He tried to leave the room and his father behind, storming to meet Morgana in her bedroom.

Uther reached out and grasped his son's shirt in his fist. "I am your father! You don't get to speak with me like that!"

"_You're not the King anymore_!" Arthur roared, turning on his heel, eyes flashing wildly.

The effect was instantaneous as both froze in their motions, actions and worlds sinking into a void of nothingness, of black oblivion. Reality had become slippery, avoiding any true cement that once joined their concrete relationship. They were like robots, programmed to go through life's movements without any thought. Both stood there: one coming to grips with the memories, the other wishing they'd disappear.

"King..." his father's voice trailed off as he sought the wall for support, his knees threatening to crumble beneath him. He gazed up at Arthur who had resigned himself to sit in the chair, head in his hands. "You remember?"

All Arthur could do was nod. They had a lot to talk about.


	4. The Mark of Morgana

**Arthur's Note**

**Welcome** my wonderful writers, resourceful readers, and faithful followers! Thank you for reading this story, and I am pleased to announce the newest chapter of TFR. I had so much feedback from the last chapter and record-breaking amount of reviews. I want to take the time to thank all of you who reviewed my story. You have no idea how much it means to me! And the PMs I got back were so kind and helpful! I want to thank: Pineapple-Sorceress,Method in Madness, morganaxmerlin, A Lady of Time, edwardfiend, Ocean Mint Leaves, Aqua girl 007, Narutoske, Nebriniel Peredhil, and adaydreamer95. Also, my Guest reviewers: sipral, AmberW, and Pea. You guys were so awesome and had really good questions that I tried to answer.

Now, with this chapter, I left a lot of the back story out because I felt like I was repeating the events from_ Waiting For Winter_, which is Morgana/Katie's story. You can find it in my profile. Also, I know so many of you are waiting for Merlin to be introduced, and I feel evil for keeping him from you, but I have a lot of it planned out already and it's already close to 10K words for that one chapter, so it might have to be condensed. Quick question: are the chapter lengths alright for you guys or do you need them shorter? I'm really sorry about the shortness of this one: it became too long, and I wanted to leave you with a better cliff hanger than what I originally had.

In this chapter, remember. Bradley is Arthur. Tony is Uther. Andy is Elyan. Tom is simply Tom. Katie is Morgana, and Angel is Guinevere.

**Spoilers for Season 5 in this chapter.**

Enjoy the chapter, and please review. All reviewers get a cookie, and I try to reply to everyone of you :) I like to hear what you thought of the chapter, what you didn't like, any questions or concerns, your favorite parts, and any suggestions/comments about my writing in general. Reviews make me feel so warm and fuzzy inside, and it's amazing. It's like so addicting... Alright, I've kept you long enough, and if you bothered to read this, thank you.

Onto the chapter,

**Erin**

**{random end credit: If you guys like reincarnation stories, I recommend Say Live and Let Die by Ultra-Geek. It's amazing and perfect in every way}**

* * *

**Chapter Three**  
_"There's no use in waiting,  
No more hesitating, watch me go.  
Truth is I'm gonna dare."  
__- "Dare" by Megan and Liz_

* * *

Katie didn't know how a person could get used to screaming.

As she sat there, eyes drawn to the site ahead, the sound pierced the air, ringing continuously in her ears, echoing through the cramped vehicle. The sharp intake of breath was as ragged as the first, and before she knew it, the screaming started up again. Each intense shriek struck Katie to the core, and she struggled to remain calm in the situation. She didn't know how long she could keep her collected concentration drawn to the specific scene. It was a natural human instinct to be bothered by pain – hers or another's.

After everything she had been through, though, she didn't know why. Katie supposed it was because she was programmed a certain way, told to react to specific emotions with an explicit response, regardless of past influences. In happiness, she was overzealous. In sadness, she never spoke. In hatred, she held the grunge the longest. In love, she would give it her all. In drama, under pressure, she tried not to panic. It's not like she was scared, because she _wasn't_. The questions and worries were just constantly whirring through her mind, never seizing and only growing.

_This_ – it was _supposed_ to be a beautiful thing. They always said that the process was the most promising experience in one's lifetime if one was ever able to witness such a miracle. They never told it from the acquaintance's perspective, however. For them, it was terrible and heart-wrenching and horrifying all at once. Especially when in the back of a taxi cab. Nonetheless, when Katie saw her double over in pain, fighting for even the right to breathe, she knew that she was to watch the ordeal play out and not try to counter this vision.

Unabashed reactions were the most raw when it came to life, and that's how Katie had always known to live. Having the gift of magic was truly sought after when it came to certain happenings, and for once in her life, she was not ashamed to be different. People would claim that she was a freak, but it had no lasting effect. They themselves did not know what it truly was to be different, and it was why she was able to sit here, even if the situation shook her heart, rendering her emotionally stoic. It was just the _screams_.

They took on the most real tone Katie had ever heard.

Katie had always accepted her Seer power since she regained her lost memories as the Lady Morgana, but tonight, for the first time, she dreamed of someone she had no knowledge of. It was the first time she ever saw something peculiar and unfamiliar in this life, the first time she questioned the magic. There was a woman sprawled out in the back of a taxi cab with a middle-aged man between her legs. Katie could see her eyes, wide and sapphire-blue, frantically looking around the vehicle, spotting the man's blood-stained hands. Katie could almost feel the panic swelling within the woman, her lungs expanding to make room for oxygen, but she wasn't able to draw in any air. The man was shouting incoherent statements, and the smell of blood marred the blistery scent of winter. The woman's sweat-tangled hair was pulled back as she struggled for her right to breathe.

_The baby was coming…_

It wasn't until a new cry cut through her subconscious, a baby's wail, that she opened her eyes. Awakening in her bedroom, drenched in a thin film of cold sweat, striving to regain her bearings, managed to startle the reincarnated Lady Morgana. She was not one to be easily puzzled, so to be plagued by the strange dreams was an oddity in itself. The images themselves danced at the forefront of her deranged mind, and she inhaled sharply before closing her eyes. These days, the world seemed to go on in a fast forward, and for once, she welcomed the short, sweet, silent minutes. Breathing heavily, Morgana rolled onto her back, reclining against the pillows and situating herself in a snug position. Her attempts to drift off proved to be unsuccessful, and she knew she was too wired to sleep.

The house was silent, cocooned in a dense fog of stillness, and she forced herself to find peace in it all. She hadn't slept last night, nor any day the week before, not since Uther left. Grasping for a handful of hours a night, vision-free, was her overall objective, one that had become a near impossible goal to fulfill. Dark shadows surrounded her forest-green eyes daily; her head pounded, overruling the effects of the sleeping pills her doctor had prescribed to her. In the privacy of her own home, she knew she looked as exhausted as she felt, but in the presence of her brother and his fiancée, it really didn't matter since they knew the reason.

After a few more quiet moments, she sat up, pushing off of the bed. Every action seemed to be a strenuous movement, and she fought the urge to collapse in defeat. When had life decided to become a losing battle, tempting her every waking second? Morgana's feet touched the plush carpeted floor, and she swayed slightly under gravity's pull. Nothing seemed to steady her, she realized, none of Earth's forces could save her now. She reached out for the wall, attempting to position herself upright. As soon as she fully righted herself, Morgana was sprinting towards her brother's room down the hall of their shared apartment. She threw open the wooden door, and only then did she pause. His slumbering form was visible, and small smile graced his face. Morgana hesitated, taking a step into the room, watching as his chest rose at a content pace.

The night she had admitted her memories came back to her, the memory still fresh. Fresh in time and fresh in emotion. She remembered the look of pure agony in his eyes, as if his world was slowly crumbling. She had expected him to scream at her, which he did. She did not expect for an offer of forgiveness, of redemption. She wanted to hold onto the family she had in this life. It was perfect. Her father was here. Her brother was here. She didn't want anything to change.

However, after Uther's visit, it had. Everything had.

Morgana placed a hand against the door frame, raising her other hand to the wall. She allowed her fingers to trace the scratches in the wood, closing her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to talk to him, tell him of her strange vision, contemplate who it was - what did have to do with her? What did it have to do with Merlin? Because, after all, he's the one she thought about when she went to sleep at night. She needed him. Arthur needed him. She was trying to focus all her magic into the visions, hoping they'd direct her, but they didn't...

Morgana_ needed_ to talk to Arthur, to wake him and pull him from his slumber, but they both had classes at Columbia in the morning, and she didn't want to disrupt his sleep when hers was already gone. Instead, she choose to amble to the window, resting her head against the glass. Snow fell outside, flakes clinging to the transparent surface. She needed a distraction from the visions, and it seemed as if nothing – not even the weather – could pull her from her musings.

"Morgana?" a groggy voice murmured lowly from the darkness behind her. The noise was certainly unexpected, and she fought against the instinct to scream as she whirled around, eyes darting about her surroundings. "What are you doing?"

_Just Arthur_, she reassured herself. "By gods, you scared the hell out of me," Morgana gasped. "Don't you know not to sneak up on people?"

"Yes," he answered, sitting up lightly. "I received many vases thrown at my head back in Camelot. I'm just lucky we forbid vases in this vicinity."

"Sorry," she apologized. "You should know by now not to sneak up on me."

He pushed the sheets back, throwing his legs over the side of the bed, his eyes wide with an incredulous stare. "You think I wasn't scared to see a random person standing in my room when I woke up? You scared the hell out of _me_; you're lucky I didn't attack you!"

Morgana sighed to herself, shaking her head at the statement. She shouldn't have come here. Uther had left the apartment after a few hours, and even though days had passed, her brother was still dwelling on the visit. Something had changed between the three of them, and that night, she could have sworn that he cried himself to sleep with Gwen at his side. The knowledge of their returning memories had forced Uther into a shell of his former self, and Morgana vaguely wondered if it resembled what was left of him after her betrayal when she first tried to take over Camelot and came forth as his biological daughter, successfully dethroning the man who sought to destroy her kind.

In this life, things had been different. Uther was the same doting guardian he had been when he was a King, but now, he embraced the title of "father" and never let her forget that fact. Before she had regained her memories, he had been the person she ran too when she had nightmares of the crash which killed her parents. Back when she was Katie, he had been her rock, the constant supporter in whatever she did. Yes, the fact that he was her real father had almost pulled her into the same anger and corruption that led to Morgause's corrupt a thousand years before, but she managed to pull through this time around since she had a steady family beside her. Uther had not shown any hostility towards her after all these years, even though he had his memories since the very moment Arthur was born.

Things were different. Things had been better. Ever since the revelation that they all remembered, things had changed, and for Uther, it hadn't been for the better. It was just a reminder of his past failings. However, Morgana was taking it upon herself to turn things around. More than anything in life, she wanted to be accepted. Arthur had accepted her change; Gwen was coming around; and Uther -_ her father_ - he would too.

"I'm sorry," Morgana whispered again, her voice soft. "I had another vision…"

Arthur paused, pondering the thought with intrigue. "Was it… Did you see Merlin again?" He wandered over to her with the utmost curiosity. "Do you know where he is?"

"Just _calm down_," she stressed, wringing her hands in front of her. "I don't know _what_ it was or_ who_ it was. That's the problem. It was just… She was _screaming_… And there was a baby…"

"_Morgana,_ what did you see?" he pressed on, seizing her useless ramblings, pulling her from her bewildered state.

"_I don't know_," his sister replied, pounding her fists against his chest. "You don't understand! I was in a cab, and there was a woman-"

"Someone else?"

"No, I didn't recognize her. It was too dark." Morgana shrugged away from her brother's hold, shaking her head as she paced back and forth, arms crossed as if to protect herself, keeping a hold on reality as she dwelled back into the vision. "She was in labor, and the baby was born… The woman was screaming _so loud_, and I didn't understand. There was another man there, but I didn't know him either."

"Is there anything else?" Arthur asked, placing a hand on her trembling shoulder. "Anything at all?"

Morgana tilted her head to the side as she looked at the ex-Prince. "It was dark…" She lowered her gaze to her hands. "That's what I'm trying to tell you, Arthur. I didn't know _anyone_ in the vision; that's never happened before."

Arthur shook his head, unable to comprehend the situation. "So you had a vision of some random people? What does that have to do _anything_ we're going through?" He paused for a moment before continuing. "Are you sure it wasn't a dream?"

"Considering I have an higher IQ, I'm pretty sure I can tell the difference between a dream and a vision, Arthur Pendragon," Morgana replied vehemently. When her brother made no move to respond, the younger girl sat down on his bed, pulling a fluffy pillow to her chest, hugging it to steady her raging thoughts. "It was a vision; I know it was, but I don't know what it was _about_."

Arthur sighed, reclining in the window seat across from her, staring out at the city streets where a light snow was falling. "I'm sorry…."

"We all want to find Merlin," she reminded him, "But you can't just jump on me for every vision I have. I told you – I don't know who these people were."

"Then we'll find out, Morgana," he said, staring at her under a heavy glare. "These visions you've been having, they all lead to something. They always do, right?" She couldn't deny him, especially when his hopeful eyes were brighter than she had seen them in days. "They'll somehow lead us to Merlin, right?"

"Of course," she answered, tilting her head to the side, observing the older man's motions.

He leaned his head back, the muted thud echoing through the room as it met the wall. Arthur showed no sign of pain, and Morgana knew he was just trying to relieve the pressure and stress he was facing. With each passing day, especially since their father visited, it seemed as if her brother was slowly unraveling at the seams, and she found herself fumbling around to retie the frayed strings. She knew that Arthur needed Merlin now more than ever, and she took it upon herself to find him.

Never before has she attempted to call her magic into her visions, to summon one to the forefront of her mind. She was seeking an answer to her questions; she needed some clue as to where Merlin was at this very moment in time. She had seen him weeks before in a vision, in the alleyway, his blue eyes haunting her for days on end. And for one fleeting moment, she swore she saw him in reality over winter break, fleeing from something, tears racing down his cheeks. And in that moment, she swore her life was complete.

Now, she just needed to find him again.

"So where do we start?" a voice asked from the doorway, pulling both Arthur and Morgana from their reverie.

Gwen stood tall and confident, arms crossed over her chest, eyes sparkling. In this new life, she held herself with a certain grace she had lacked back in Camelot. Arthur once confided in his sister that he thought that perhaps because she was born an equal in this life and there was nothing standing in the way of being in a relationship with him prompted the change. Morgana could see how he reached that conclusion. Back in Camelot, Gwen had been born a servant, reserved and timid in whatever she approached. However, when she entered a relationship with Arthur, she embraced everything with a certain amount of compassion and determination that made her a truly wonderful Queen after her husband's untimely death. Gwen was a great Queen, Morgana realized, and she wished with all her might that she could rewind time and take those years back and be content as a Lady, united under the Pendragon crest, and flourish under the rule of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere. If only she hadn't been tainted with fear, easily corrupted by her half-sister.

If only she had broken out of the spell sooner.

"I don't know," Morgana admitted, facing her brother's fiancee. Gwen and her were quickly warming up to one another's presences, but it would take some time till they were close friends, because, after everything Morgana did, there would take some time to heal the wounds, stitch the cuts, and soothe the flustered scars. "I... Hope I get some visions of him, I suppose."

"Maybe you did," Gwen said, "What was your latest vision?"

"I don't know."

Gwen shook her head in defiance. "No, that's not right. There is always something in your visions; there has never been a random event you foresaw. This was something important or you wouldn't have seen it, Morgana."

Arthur straightened his posture as his fiancee joined him on the window seat after shutting the door behind her. "Perhaps there's something you're missing."

"I don't know what it could be."

"Well what happened in the vision? Don't concentrate on _who_ it was but rather _what_ it was."

Morgana sighed, leaning back until she was sprawled across the top of Arthur's bed. "I was in a taxi cab. It was snowing, and the traffic went on for _miles. _There was a pregnant woman sprawled across the back seat. She had brown hair and bright blue eyes. She was screaming so loud. That's what unnerved me. I don't think I ever heard someone scream that loud before. It all seemed so real, especially for a vision." The teenager licked her dry lips before swallowing thickly. "She... She was in labor, and I knew that baby was coming right then and there. There was another man between her legs. He was telling her things like 'calm down' and 'it's almost over'. I don't know if that was her husband or whoever. The taxi driver was behind him, and he was... He looked like he was more worried about the mess he'd have to clean up."

"Did you recognize anything about the woman?" Gwen questioned, cocking her head to the side with curiosity. "Or the man for that matter?"

Morgana shook her head, lazily fingering the hem of her night shirt. "Not that I can remember. The man... It was dark, but he... I'm pretty sure he had dark skin, dark hair... Like you, Gwen. He was delivering the baby, and he seemed to know what he was doing... Wait, he said..." Her voice trailed off, and it prompted the couple across the room to narrow their eyes in suspicion, waiting with baited breath for their friend to continue. "He told the woman he had done this before..."

Gwen bit her lip. "What were his exact words."

"His daughter had been born in the back of a cab as well," Morgana admitted, glancing at the dark-haired girl. "...Why?"

"Morgana... I was born in the back of a cab." There was a moment of silence before Gwen continued with a bout of enthusiasm. "You don't think... No, you don't see the_ past_ do you?"

"Unless you count my memories of Camelot, then no, I don't."

Gwen stood up, Arthur's arms dropping to the side as the trio felt excitement bubble in their chests. What revelation had Morgana made. "My father delivered a baby about a year after I was born... He doesn't talk about it much... It was just such an unusual experience that he told us the story when we were older."

"Us?" Arthur asked.

"My brother and I."

"Elyan?"

"Andy," Gwen clarified, "In this life, it's Andy, but I haven't heard from him since we moved to the West Coast last year. I doubt he remembers anything about Camelot, though, or else he would have called."

"...But why would I have a vision about your father? How is he involved?" Morgana questioned, staring at her brother's fiancee in confusion.

"Maybe it's not my father, but the woman," Gwen quipped.

"Did you catch a name, Morgana?" Arthur said, joining his sister on the bed.

The younger girl scrunched her facial features together in concentration, and after a few moments, Arthur wondered if thinking was physically straining on her. Before he could call her out on it, though, she lit up like a light bulb, face eager but still puzzled. "Caroline," she murmured, turning to face Gwen. "Does that name mean anything to you?"Gwen shook her head, biting her bottom lip.

Morgana smirked, and Arthur recognized the look. It was usually followed by cruel manipulation. "I... What is that smile for, Morgana?"

"You haven't told Gwen's parents about the engagement, have you?" Arthur shook his fractionally, eyes widening to the size of grapefruit as he realized where his sister was heading.

"No, Morgana!"

"Why not? It's the perfect excuse to go out and talk to Gwen's father."

Gwen's face crumbled as she recognized the formulating plan. "Morgana, they... My parents won't... Honestly, they just found out I was dating someone... They haven't even met Arthur for god's sake."

"What's more important?" Morgana asked evilly, her voice sending icy shivers down the couple's spine. "Finding the woman or-"

"Alright, we'll do it," she said.

Morgana turned to face Arthur, a wicked grin tugging at her lips. "Time to meet the_ in-laws_, Mr. Pendragon."


	5. The Poisoned Truth

**Arthur's Note**

**Welcome** my wonderful writers, resourceful readers, and faithful followers! (I thought the introduction was a little creative? No... Okay, nevermind then xD)

Again, thank you so freaking much for taking the time to read the story. And for the reviews - they make me smile so much. So, without further ado, I welcome you to the next chapter of TFR. I hope I replied to all the reviews via PM. Oh! The PMs I got back were hilarious and I made so many new friends! I love you all! You guys were so awesome! Cookies for all!

shinnoh (a guest reviewer): you asked me to fix a few mistakes in one of the chapters. Could you tell me what chapter and where the mistakes are, like exactly, cause I was like really lost. Just so I can fix them! 3 Thanks for reviewing, by the way. Made me smile. I love it when readers point out the where the author fails so that the author can get better!

With this chapter, I tried to make it awkward and everything on purpose to portray the mood. I never seem to really write comedy and romance well. I stick to the WHUMP!Merlin. Everyone's good at that. Oh and description of the house is inspired by A Legacy of Lies. Hope you all like it! If you have any suggestions about Colin/Merlin's backstory, please drop it in the review or PM me. I am currently editing that chapter since it's the one people have been waiting for, so it's so important to me to just get it right! So, tell me what you want to see in the next chapter for Merlin/Colin.

Oh! If you need to get a hold of me quickly, your best bet is to check my website at .com I post chapter updates and some excerpts as well as all things Merlin on there. So, follow me readers! Yep, there's my shameless promotion.

In this chapter, remember. Bradley is Arthur. Tony is Uther. Andy is Elyan. Tom is simply Tom (Gwen's father). Katie is Morgana, and Angel is Guinevere. Colin is Merlin. And Richard is Gaius. OH! And Margaret is Gwen/Elyan's mother who died in Camelot!

Since some people haven't seen all of S5,**Spoilers for Season 5 in this chapter.  
**

Enjoy the chapter, and please review. All reviewers get a cookie, and I try to reply to everyone of you :) I like to hear what you thought of the chapter, what you didn't like, any questions or concerns, your favorite parts, and any suggestions/comments about my writing in general. Reviews make me feel so warm and fuzzy inside, and it's amazing. It's like so addicting... Alright, I've kept you long enough, and if you bothered to read this, thank you.

Onto the chapter,

**Erin**

**{Recommended Reading: Holly Leaves by CaptainOzone. It's a Princess Mithian and Merlin story. It's a beautiful piece of work. I love it so much. Anyone else got any recommended fics for me to read? I love the bromance, whump, and all things Merlin.}**

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**Chapter Four**

_"I'll always be honest,_

_I'll always be proud._

_A long way from heaven,_

_Then I turn around."_

_-"Star I R" by Caroline Sunshine_

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Angel _hated_ her home.

Perhaps it was because her parents insisted on moving to the Northeast three years after she was born, settling in a small-town called Huntington, located in the blistery corner of upper New York. It was a place where the weather was always cloudy, and she had been severely deprived of sunshine as a child. She loved her family whole heartedly, and she was especially close to her father, Tom. The two had been inseparable up until she decided to venture out onto her own, something drawing her towards Maryland where she later met her fiancé, taking up a job on the corner coffee shop.

Not a day passed by she didn't miss her family, and when she finally remembered Camelot, she felt the home sickness grip her like a crushing fist as she was reminded the last time she saw her father, right before Uther had him executed. It made her want to rush home then and there and embrace him one last time, savoring the moment when she was Guinevere and he was the blacksmith of the kingdom.

However, her destiny had other ideas.

As ashamed as she was to admit it, Gwen knew that there were more important things than returning to her family such as finding her lost friends and continuing her life with her one true love. She never expected the two worlds to collide. She wanted to keep her life in Camelot separate from her life in Huntington, however, she found herself in the passenger seat of Arthur's car, rushing home and hopefully be one step closer to finding her long, lost friends. Gwen didn't want to admit it, but she was terrified. Not of finding the truth, no, but of how her Huntington life would react to her Camelot one.

The snow flakes melted as soon as they came in contact with the warm surface of the transparent glass, quickly forming drops of water, and Gwen's chocolate eyes watched them race down its surface. Streaks of water were left behind, and she found herself leaning forward until her forehead was pressed up against the icy window. The car crossed over a small crook, and she sighed to herself, the sound inaudible to most, as she cast a glance at her fiancé in the driver's seat.

Arthur stared at the road straight ahead, noting the icy and slick pavement that they were currently maneuvering across. Running a hand through her hair, Gwen observed the way his lips were set in a firm line, showing his discomfort and annoyance for the predicament they had been thrown into. She couldn't blame him. Uther had been completely welcoming to their relationship, and that was saying something. Apparently, Arthur thought that he would be the greater of the two evils, but he was sadly mistaken. Gwen had an inkling of how her parents would react. Arthur would be going into this situation blindfolded.

Switching her attention back to the scenery passing by, Gwen allowed her eyes to flash aimlessly amongst it. She was not taking any valuable pieces of information in nor was she memorizing the lay of the land since she already knew it. She zoned out, becoming quickly engrossed in the snow flakes. The scene was nothing short of interesting to say the least. She was hypnotized by the paths they traveled, the patterns they paved, and the cleansing they accomplished. At that moment, she had a strange urge to throw herself out of the moving car and go dance in the snow.

"What do you think we'll find out?" Arthur inquired, gaining her attention as she he turned off onto the shoulder of the road. Gwen lifted her head to meet his gaze, raising her eyebrows in confusion. "What do you think your father will tell us?"

Gwen shrugged absently, wondering why it was relevant to concentrate on this piece of information. She felt Arthur's eyes burrowing into the back of her head, so she turned back to face him. Arthur gave her a wary looking, but she let it pass. She could be a damper on things, but she had a right to be. Her parents just learned she was seeing someone named Bradley. Knowing she was already engaged to a boy they had never met…

The idea was terrifying, and Arthur wasn't showing the proper fear for it.

"I don't know," Gwen said, studying her nail beds.

Arthur rolled his eyes at her antics before flipping the radio on, hoping the noise would fill the void of silence that had settled upon the two occupants of the car. Static was heard as he attempted to drive and find a signal at the exact same time. Finally, he settled on a station that played rock music, and Gwen sighed to herself. Resisting the urge to gag, she reached across the console and shut the music off.

"Something's bothering you," Arthur said, annunciating each word to get the point of concern across. Gwen glanced back at her fiancé, a small smile gracing her delicate features. "…Want to talk about it?"

"What gave it away?" Arthur chuckled lowly at her aloof manner and sarcastic tongue.

"I'm sorry," he apologized with a hint of remorse. "I just didn't think your parents would be that bad to meet."

"Oh, they will."

"I don't think so," Arthur protested.

"And why is that?"

Arthur smiled. "Because they made you."

Arthur returned his attention to the road, bypassing the black ice scattered in random spots across the cement. Gwen's smile brightened and she once more turned to watch the snow flakes with a flying heart. She didn't know what she did to ever deserve someone like Arthur Pendragon. Of all his many flaws, there was such a pure heart and utmost honesty that shined through, and that, above anything else, made her fall in love with him every single time all over again.

The two continued the drive, eventually succumbing to random road games to pass the time. It was early afternoon when Arthur pulled the car around a sharp corner, causing Gwen to groan softly as it pulled her from her daze. She let her eyes adjust to her surroundings as the car ventured forward, and a gasp of excitement broke through her reverie. She was almost home! The sun peaked through the cloudy overcast, its rays causing light to bounce off the sparkling glints of snow. The car rumbled over an old bridge, drove for a short while, and turned so that they were cruising along the edge of a dense forest. The side roads had started out as nothing but dirt and gravel but soon paved out in the long stretch of things. Tall trees lined both sides of the street, bending gracefully over the road. At the end of the double rows of trees, Gwen saw sections of slopping gray roof tiles and a brick chimney. All of the homes in Huntington had the same design, so she looked for the familiar house with the ivory door and a wreath with a big, red blow hung on the front.

"We're coming around the back right now," Gwen declared. "The driveway goes around to the front. You can see the front yard now."

"It's…" Arthur paused, searching for the correct words.

"Small?" Gwen supplied.

"No," Arthur commented, "…It's _you_."

He turned the car into the driveway, and Gwen caught sight of two figures perched on the top of the cemented stairs that led to the porch and entryway. When the vehicle was parked, Arthur awaited Gwen's departure, but when she hesitated to move, he nudged her side playfully. "It'll be alright, Guinevere."

"You have to call me Angel here, Arthur," Gwen reminded him, face tight with anxiety. "And you're Bradley."

He cast a supportive smile before stepping out of the car. Gwen followed suit, climbing out of the car slowly, staring up at her old home. Two stories of paned windows, brick with a shingled roof, and a large porch. The padding of footsteps broke through her concentration, and she came face-to-face with her parents, Tom and Margaret Leodegrance. Margaret smiled widely before wrapping her arms around her daughter, and Gwen let a small grin grace her face as her father stepped forward and pulled her into a tight and secure bear hug.

"Welcome home, Angel," Tom whispered under his breath. "Welcome home."

After she pulled away, Gwen extended her arm towards Arthur who stepped forward with a greeting. "This is Bradley, Bradley James." Arthur expected her to let the news of their engagement follow, but when she continued with, "My boyfriend," he had no time to react as Margaret smothered him with a hug.

"It's so nice to finally meet you, Bradley," she said. "I've heard so much about you."

Margaret ushered Arthur inside the house, and Gwen and her father followed a quiet distance, watching the older woman overpower the younger man with questions that could rival the Spanish Inquisition. Arthur took it all in stride, conversing eagerly with Margaret, and Gwen couldn't help but chuckle under her breath. All her fears and insecurities seemed to blow away in the wind, cleansing her off all her worries as she stepped over the threshold and entered her childhood home.

"You must be Mrs. Leodegrance," Arthur said, sending the woman the same smile that made Gwen weak in her knees.

"Please, call me Margaret," the older woman insisted, "And this is Tom, Angel's father."

"Pleasure to meet you both," Arthur responded, shaking Tom's hand as they exchanged pleasantries. "Thank you for having me over for the weekend. Angel's told me so much about you. You have a wonderful daughter."

Gwen laughed half heartedly, swatting her fiancé on the arm. "He's exaggerating."

"We hear an earful as well," Tom chimed in, and Arthur raised an eyebrow in mock curiosity. "All good things, I promise."

Arthur laughed and flashed Gwen a wide smile. She could feel the blush roll across her cheeks, and she struggled to remain standing as Arthur pulled her hand into his own, squeezing tightly to remind her to stay grounded. It had only been five minutes and the meeting was going perfectly. Gwen wondered offhandedly if her parents had gone through trial runs before they came – that, or memorized cue cards. Considering this was the first boy she had ever brought home, it was certainly a change for them.

"Bradley, your room is the second door on the left. Angel, could you take his things there?" Margaret announced in an authoritive tone, gesturing down the hallway where the four bedrooms and bathroom were located. "Tom, could you get some drinks? What would you like, Bradley?"

"Anything's fine," he answered as Gwen whisked the duffel bag to the spare bedroom. "Actually, Angel and I have something-"

"When's dinner?" Gwen broke out, attempting to prolong the inevitable by just a few hours. She wanted a few moments of peace with her parents before they kicked her to the seventh circle of Hell for her crimes.

"In a few hours, Angel," her mother responded. "It's only two o'clock. We'll eat about six. Why don't you join Bradley in the living room?" Margaret turned towards the younger man. "Make yourself comfortable, dear."

"Here," Tom said as he entered the sitting room, offering Arthur a bottle of water.

The teenager accepted it with a nod of thanks and seated himself in the comfy sofa, the black leather squelching as he tried to find a comfortable position. Margaret began to fire off questions at a spit-fire pace that reminded Arthur vaguely of training in combat with four knights at a time. Attacks rapid and the defenses even more so.

"So, Bradley, thank you for coming for a visit. It's nice to finally have Angel bring a boy home."

"_Mother_!"

Tom shook his head, laughing at his daughter's antics, before turning to face the blonde. "So, Bradley, how's New York taking to you?"

Arthur took a lazy sip of his drink as if to soothe Gwen's panicked state. "Good, we're all settled in our apartment, and I start classes next week at Columbia."

Margaret leaned forward, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Now, are you two living_alone_ together or-"

"No, we're sharing the apartment with Bradley's sister, Katie," Gwen quickly assured her mother as Arthur nudged his hand into hers once more. "It's just so that's easier to afford."

"How many siblings do you have?" Tom interjected suddenly.

"Katie is my half-sister," Arthur confessed, the heat creeping up towards his cheek. Having never met Gwen's parents in Camelot, it was a strange predicament to be thrown into and it left him feeling self-conscious. "My mother died when I was born, so it's been my father and I for most of my life."

Tom reclined in his seat, apparently satisfied with the answer, but Margaret plowed on. "What's Katie like?"

"She's extreme," Gwen admitted with a laugh. She was warming up to her old friend, and she knew forgiveness was one step beyond the horizon. "When she's happy, she never stops smiling. When she's sad, she cries a river."

Arthur nodded. "And when she's angry, she'll burn your house down."

The conversation began with common items of interest: plans for the future, the city life Gwen had been thrown into, Margaret's plans for her garden, and of course, sports teams. Gwen danced around the subject of Arthur's and hers relationship, choosing to allow her parents to get to know Arthur's true self before they deduced the relationship a failure the moment the news of the engagement hit. For the most part, things went smoothly, but Arthur could sense her unease at the current situation, so he did his best to worm his way into Margaret and Tom's good graces.

"This is a lovely home you have," Arthur announced during dinner, taking a sip of his iced tea as the family sat around the dining room table.

Tom smiled. "I'm sure it's nothing compared to what you're used too."

Arthur didn't know how to respond to that statement, so Gwen stepped in. "Dad, how's the business going?"

Margaret leaned closer to Arthur. "Tom's a mechanic right here in town. He owns his own-"

"I'm sure Bradley doesn't want to hear about my day job," Tom began, but Margaret shook her head.

"No, you two just keep talking." She stood up, wiping her face with a napkin. "Should I get desert started? Angel, how about you come help me?" Without waiting for a reply, she gestured for Gwen to follow her into the kitchen,

Gwen didn't want to leave Arthur alone with her father (who knew what could be said), but she stood up as well and collected his plate. In the kitchen, she joined her mother, scraping the remains of the food into the garbage. She strained her ears to listen to Tom and Arthur's conversation.

"My father wanted me to be a lawyer, so I first went to Harvard-"

"That's a pretty big school," Tom said, tone lacing between awe and suppressed disbelief.

"Of course, but I didn't want to be a lawyer. Over winter break, my sister was going through some troubles, so I was thinking of moving up state to be with her," Arthur continued.

Gwen paused, smiling at the memory of Arthur rushing to Morgana's side the moment her memories came to the surface of their relationship. Part of the reason he moved to the city was to help his half-sister, but the other was solely devoted to finding Merlin.

"That's very kind of you."

"Well she's my sister, sir."

"Now do Angel and her get along?" Tom inquired, and Gwen bit back a smile.

Eager to hear his reply, she stepped away from the dishwasher and inclined her head around the corner. Before she could make another move, however, her mother's startled cries brought her back to reality. She turned just in time to see her grip the hem of her shirt.

"Angel, honey, your shirt is caught in the dishwasher," Margaret warned, and as Gwen whirled around to catch herself, a glass bowl tumbled to the ground, shattering upon impact.

Voices silenced outside the kitchen, and Gwen could see her father and Arthur craning their heads around the corner. "Ignore that," Gwen begged, and Margaret shook her head at her daughter's antics while Tom struggled to repress his laughter.

Gwen headed back into the kitchen, but not before glancing in Arthur's direction. Her fiancé sent her a supportive smile, knowing her nerves were getting the better of her. He wanted desperately to spare her from this confrontation, but they needed information, and in Gwen's eyes, they were breaking her parents' hearts along the way.

* * *

Dinner finished quickly after a round of cheesecake and wine, and Tom ushered the couples into the living room. They sat around the television, curled up in one another's arms as Gwen's mother popped a horror movie on. The next few hours were spent in darkness, the occasional fearful whimper, and the screams when a particular frightening scene arose. Arthur couldn't argue; he was completely content to fall asleep on the leather sofa with Gwen curled up against his side.

Before long, he noticed that Gwen had fallen into a quiet slumber beside him. Restraining a yawn, he shifted and gathered in his arms and stood up, ready to put her in bed.

"She asleep already?" Tom asked from the couch across from them. Margaret had retired to bed an hour earlier, leaving the remaining three to concentrate on the movie.

Arthur raised his head, eyes flickering away reluctantly from Gwen's form. "Yeah… Do you mind if I carry her to bed?"

Tom nodded, and Arthur scooped his fiancée into his arms, carefully adjusting his grip so that her head was nestled in the crook of his neck. As he made a move to leave, the older man stopped him. "You're different than I expected, Bradley."

"…I hope that's a good thing, sir."

"Believe me, it is," Tom said quietly. "You treat her well. You're a good kid."

"Thank you."

Tom stood up, stretching so that the pops and groans of his aching joints were heard. "Thank you for looking after my daughter." He clicked the television off and followed Arthur's retreating form down the hall. "Sleep well."

Arthur couldn't help but chuckle as he watched Tom slip into his bedroom and close the door. The younger male stepped forward and lowered Gwen onto her bed. Immediately, the woman woke up with a tired smile on her face. "I thought he would never leave."

"I knew you weren't asleep."

"We need to talk," she murmured against his shirt as he slipped onto the bed with her, pulling the comforter over the two of them. Arthur glanced around the room, a wide grin worming its way on his face, noticing her room and everything that made up her childhood still in picture-perfect condition. It was like a shrine to everything that Gwen was. "I'm sorry for not telling them about our engagement, Arthur, I just… Something told me it wasn't the right time."

Arthur nodded. "I understand." He squeezed her hand. "It was nice to meet your parents. They're…"

"A little insane?"

"No more than Merlin."

The smile remained on her face. "I miss him… Do you think he remembers us?"

"I sure hope so." Arthur sighed and buried his face in Gwen's dark curls, inhaling the familiar scent of strawberries and cherry blossoms. "Do you think your father remembers _anything_?"

"If he did I don't think he'd say anything considering he was executed last time we saw him," she admitted, tracing patterns across Arthur's chest, shaking her head. "When should we ask him?"

"Obviously tomorrow," he answered. "We have to head back to school tomorrow afternoon."

Gwen thought back to their apartment which they shared with Morgana. She found herself missing the girl's wry humor and dry wit. She could do with a little sarcasm and bitter taste right about now rather than face her parents' reactions. However, the potential of finding her best friend in this lifetime kept her rooted firmly in the small town she had grown up. The prospect of her father possibly coming across the man with wide blue-eyes and the full-tooth grin made everything worth it.

Gwen would be the first to admit that Merlin meant the world to her. He was her constant rock throughout their Camelot years, and to lose both him and Arthur at the same time caused her to fall into a hole of oblivion where nothing seemed to be right. The following years she ruled Camelot to the best of her ability, time slipping by as the Golden Age reigned. It was meaningless though, because for all the good she did afterwards, it was Once and Future King and the warlock Emrys who made it possible.

She could never repay Merlin for all his sacrifices, could never describe in words just how much he meant to her, and could never thank him enough for giving her the endless possibilities for peace and prosperity.

She thought back to the vision that Morgana had. How had it been connected to Merlin? "Do you think my father's story has anything to do with Merlin?"

Arthur was silent for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, Gwen's head bobbing with the motion. She snuggled closer to her fiancé when he finally settled. "I just don't know, Guinevere."

Her thoughts drifted off as Arthur's steady heartbeat lulled her into a light slumber, but before she could fully embrace the dark abyss, she raised her gaze to meet the other man's. "What do you think Merlin's doing right now?"

Leaning forward, Arthur rested his chin on top of her head. "Probably spending time in the tavern."

"You mean the bar?"

"Or whatever other excuse Gaius can come up with."

Gwen laughed to herself more than anything. "Where do you think Gaius is? Do you think he came back too?"

"Everyone else did," Arthur insisted. "That stubborn old man would have made it too."

"I hope it all works out," Gwen confessed. She tugged the covers over her shoulders and burrowed herself in the blankets, rolling onto her side. Arthur was reluctant to let go, but he choose to just grasp her hand in his own.

"It will, Guinevere, I promise," he said. There was silence before he spoke again. "You can stay here for a few more days, handle the fallout of the engagement news."

Gwen raised her eyebrow. "Oh, and where would you be?"

"Far away."

Gwen grabbed his shirt and leaned her head closer to Arthur, pressing their lips together in a quick kiss. When they parted, she knew Arthur had been joking. "You're horrible, you know that?"

"Of course, Mrs. Pendragon," he said before kissing her once more, only softer and slower. It molded into something sensual as he rolled over on top of her, resting his body gently against hers. The two fought for dominance, and just simply embraced one another's company. They had a thousand years to make up for, and a few months after meeting in this life just wasn't enough time.

After a while, they broke apart and simply lay in bed until Arthur murmured into Gwen's hair, "How are we going to tell them? About us?" Dead silence filled the room; Gwen was sure she stopped breathing all together. "Do you think they'll be that angry? Maybe they'll support it."

She shook her head. "I just don't know, Arthur."

"I'll still be here," he promised.

"I know."

"And I think we all need to talk now," a voice sounded from the open doorway suddenly, without any notice, and Arthur and Gwen jumped apart. There was a muted thud as Arthur rolled off the bed, finding Tom Leodegrance towering above him.

Arthur gulped.

* * *

"You've remembered this whole time?"

There was silence, a short heart beat. It felt like forever, but time passed by.

Time continued on at the speed of light. It lunged and leaped into a new journey, dropping from highs, and jumping up from lows, through the drops and highs, pass it does. Most claim that as time passes, one is stuck in your current state of mind forever – that there is never a chance to turn back. However, this certain stop in time changed everything. And with it, came a new revelation.

"Angel," Tom began, but his daughter merely shook her head, unable to comprehend the situation. "Angel, I… Let me explain."

"Why don't you call me Gwen?"

Tom sighed to himself, refusing to meet Arthur and Gwen's gazes. "Because it reminds me of Camelot."

"What's wrong with that?" she asked, tears pricking in the corners of her eyes. "_I_was in Camelot. So was _Elyan_. _My life was in Camelot_!"

Tom tried to hush her as Arthur rubbed her arms in an up-and-down motion to calm her. "We… Our lives are better this time, Angel. Your mother is alive. You're so happy here."

"I was happy _there _too."

"Look," Tom began, raising his gaze to meet Arthur's inquiring ones and Gwen's watery ones. "You obviously came here for a reason, and it wasn't for our approval. If it was, you have my blessing to get married." When he saw Gwen's incredulous stare, he chuckled. "I know the legends, Angel. I know what happened between you and Arthur and that Lancelot fellow."

"That's not exactly true," Arthur said, but Gwen kicked his shin and he silenced himself.

"I know that something important happened, and you two need something from me. I'm not sure what, but I'll do what I can."

Gwen wasted no time. "When we were younger, you said you met a woman in New York and helped deliver her baby. We need the full story."

Tom was taken back. "_What_?"

"Please," Arthur pleaded, eyes shining in hope. "There's a possibility that child and woman might be someone we know… Someone we knew from Camelot."

Tom sighed and wrung his hands together in his lap. "That… That was New Year's Eve nearly twenty years ago," Tom began, looking off into the distance as his thoughts slipped into the memories of two decades past. "And I still remember that night…" A weak laugh was interjected. "There was a blizzard that night. It was already starting, though, when I got into the cab. A good amount of snow was already on the ground. Traffic was stopped; the cars were bumper to bumper. I looked out the window at one point. I don't really know why, but that's when I saw her. A woman was on the sidewalk, hunched over in pain. She was pregnant, something was screaming at me to help her."

Arthur learned closer. "Do you know who she was?"

"Her name was Caroline," Tom clarified, a small smile gracing his face. "I made the driver stop, and it was like I was on auto-pilot. The next thing I know, I'm helping Caroline into the back of the cab, and she's screaming that she needed to push." Tom looked straight at his daughter with the utmost fondness. "Margaret was the same way with you, Angel… Anyway, I sent the driver across the street to the drug storewith a list of supplies and helped get Caroline situated. I knew that we would never get to the nearest hospital in time, and I knew what I was doing. The baby was coming so fast! It was determined to be born that night…"

"Was she alright?" Arthur questioned, never having heard the story before. "Was the-"

Tom chuckled lightly. "It was a boy." His expression turned somber at once. "The labor went fine, and she delivered a healthy baby boy. He already had a head full of dark hair. It was an amazing sight to behold, truly."

Arthur squeezed Gwen's hand; something told him that this was it. _They had found Merlin._ Perhaps Tom Leodegrance had stayed in contact with Caroline and her son. Perhaps he knew the boy now a day. Perhaps they exchanged Christmas cards every year. What if Merlin came walking through that door right now?

"But... When I tried to give Caroline her son, she started rambling nonsense things… Like how she couldn't take care of him! How he was better off anywhere else but with her! I thought she was just exhausted from the delivery. I had planned to take her and the boy to the hospital but…." Tom's voice trailed off, as if he was reliving the same panic and confusion he had faced all those years ago.

The blood froze in Arthur's veins. This wasn't happening.

"Caroline," Tom stammered, and Gwen cast him a worried glance. She had never heard this side of the story. "Caroline pulled a knife out and threatened me and her son. She said to take him away, away from her." Gwen's breath caught in her throat. "What… What was I supposed to do? She… I thought if I gave her the boy she would kill him. So I… I left her in the back of that cab and ran to the hospital. I panicked. All I cared about was getting that baby boy to safety. He had just been born, and we were in the middle of a blizzard for God's sake! What was I supposed to do?

"When… When I got to the hospital, they took the boy away. The police were called and I told them everything I knew… I… The nurses were trying to fill out his birth certificate, and I told them that Caroline had named him Colin. I don't know why I choose that name, but it was the closest to what I thought was meant for the boy. The police never found the mother… Well, they found her apartment, but by then, Caroline was long gone. I visited Colin for a little while afterwards, but eventually, he became a ward of the state and was placed into foster care.

"I never sat any of them ever again," Tom finished. "I tried to look for Colin or Caroline even on my own, but… And that's it… That's the story."

Silence followed. Gwen wasn't able to form any coherent statements. Arthur was shell-shocked. There wasn't any way to continue with the conversation after the painful revelation. If Colin was Merlin (Arthur was almost certain), then Caroline was Hunith. That particular piece of the back story did not fit the puzzle. Arthur had seen how strong Hunith and Merlin's relationship had been. Often times he found himself envious of it all because it was a relationship he never had with his own mother – in Camelot or this life. For Hunith to blow it all away… It just did not make sense.

What were they supposed to do now?

* * *

Miles away, a young boy were huddled in the corner of a dark alley. His eyes were closed in a fitful slumber, but they snapped open, molten gold fading to reveal a cerulean color. A door opened to his shelter, and he scrambled to his feet, eager to make a run for it. An old man toddled out into the alley way and gazed at the form standing there.

"Merlin," the old man whispered and hurried forward, noticing the lack of recognition on the boy's part.

"My name's Colin," he stammered, flinching as the old man's hands came towards him. "Please… P-Please don't t-turn me in. P-P-Please."

"I won't," the old man vowed. He cocked his head to the side, analyzing the boy, before gesturing towards the open door. "It's cold outside. Would you like to come inside?" The boy blanched with fear. "Shh… You can trust me, Colin. My name is Richard, and I want to help you."

It was with hesitation that the young boy took the old, weathered hand of the doctor.

The dragon roared again.


	6. Tears of Merlin Emrys-Part One

**Arthur's Note**

**Welcome** my wonderful writers, resourceful readers, and faithful followers! (Totally keeping this introduction).

THANK YOU again for taking the time to read the story. The reviews really centered around the desperation to read this chapter so here it is. So, without further ado, I welcome you to the next chapter of TFR. I hope I replied to all the reviews via PM. Hope everyone got their cookies last time, if not, I brought cupcakes this time.

This is only the first half of my Colin/Merlin chapter. I really wanted to stretch it out, but it became too long... Sorry about that. But I'm almost done with the next chapter so hopefully I'll get that out soon.

Oh! If you need to get a hold of me quickly, your best bet is to check my website whenthestormisthrough which is my TUMBLR url. I post chapter updates and some excerpts as well as all things Merlin on there.

In this chapter, remember. Michelle is Nimueh. Richard is Gaius. Colin is Merlin. And Tom is Cenrad.

Since some people haven't seen all of S5, **Spoilers for Season 5 in this chapter.  
**

Enjoy the chapter, and please review. All reviewers get a cookie, and I try to reply to everyone of you :) I like to hear what you thought of the chapter, what you didn't like, any questions or concerns, your favorite parts, and any suggestions/comments about my writing in general. Reviews make me feel so warm and fuzzy inside, and it's amazing. It's like so addicting... Alright, I've kept you long enough, and if you bothered to read this, thank you.

Onto the chapter,

**Erin**

**{Recommended Reading: Fox's Net by Aleithria. It's a stunning story. Go read it.}**

* * *

**Chapter Five  
**_"A fragile frame aged  
With misery  
And when our eyes meet  
I know you see."  
-"Cut" by Plumb  
_

* * *

Colin had never been afraid of the dark.

The other children in the foster home would tremble in fear the moment the sun disappeared, darkness stretching over their surroundings as night rolled in. They would wait with baited breath every evening, watching as it danced just above the horizon, streaks of pink, purple, and blue painted across the sky, blending together in a complex ad beautiful dance until they were unified into a navy blanket. Dots of bright light littered the dark canvas as the morning star slipped lower and lower until the darkest hour was upon them.

The children would shake and cower in fear, eyes wide with fright as they huddled together under thin and stained sheets, desperately wishing the sun would rise simultaneously on the other side of town, its warm rays seeking to illuminate the shadowed corners and hollowed halls. Eventually, the children would sigh with relief and roll out of bed to greet the blossoming down the very next morning, leaving to enjoy the wonders of daylight.

Except for one small child whose thin frame shook with icy shivers of fear, tremors rocketing down his spine, afraid to leave the safety and serenity that night brought, choosing to prolong the moment between reality and fantasy for just a little while longer.

Daylight meant facing his deranged foster mother, Michelle, who seemed to know everything at once and yet nothing at all. The rest of the children were showered with promises of a home and family someday awaiting them with open arms and smiles of welcome. Michelle made each and every child who entered her house feel loved and accepted with the possibility of a better tomorrow. It reassured the youngsters that all would be well if they survive the darkness, awaking to their Mother Michelle the next day. However, Colin wished for nothing but the dark, a sweet reprieve from the sufferings of everyday life, where the shadows offered an ignorance he gladly embraced.

You see, Colin wasn't a normal child. He was born without any knowledge of who he was or why he had come to be. All he knew was that his earliest memory was standing in front of a mirror, his blue eyes wide and glowing a molten gold. It was the day he realized that it was unleashed whenever he lost control of his emotions and caused all of his foster parents to give him away. Some part of Colin knew, even in the very beginning, that this ability of his caused too many trouble and he had to hide it from everyone. If he didn't, he would be killed or possibly something even worse.

He wanted so dearly to be normal, but ever since he was a baby, he had harnessed a rare ability he could only deem as a demonic power -_ magic_ almost. At times, it occurred in states of heightened emotions, but as time dragged on, he had learned to control the ability and nearly put a stop to it. He knew he was a freak, a supernatural psychopath, a man against nature. However, he never had answers as to why he was this way for he had spent his entire life in foster care, never having met his biological parents. But, eventually, he had learned to live with what he was – no matter how much he hated that society exiled him even if they didn't know the truth about him. He had so many questions: why was he never wanted? Why was he never cared for? Why did no one love him? Why was he this way? He questioned all of this, but it didn't change the situation.

It didn't stop the pain, however. They seemed to be some people who knew _what _and _who_ he was even when he himself didn't. He supposed it all started with Michelle. He never knew her surname, nor did he ever bother finding out. Out of all the foster parents he had, they never seemed to pick up on his abilities (or whatever it truly was). Instead, they wrote him off as mentally insane or just plain "unfit to civilize with other children"; soon after each placement, he was sent back to the system and he was shuffled into another house. Colin never stayed in the same place for very long. A year was the longest period of time he had spent in a foster home with a lovely lady he couldn't remember the name too; he was three at the time. (_He had called her "Mary_") She fed him different kinds of stew throughout the winter, when the blistery air attacked his scrawny frame, the icy shivers threatening to send him into convulsions. In the summer, she'd allow him to help make pastries and sticky buns, when the sun danced high in the sky and Colin danced high through life.

However, soon after, she discovered his magic and sent him away. They all did in the end.

He began, even at a young age, to wonder what it would be life if he was ever accepted, what would occur if someone took him in. What would happen if someone cared? Would his life be different? Would his appearance become someone full of life, high on imagination, and facing the benefits of optimism? Often times, he would lay awake at night, and his dreams would start to get the best of him. Each time, however, they would be close to coming true, but then they were snatched away because of his magic, and he was only left with the cloud of desire swirling between lingering fingers.

So as the heartbreak became a permanent fixture in his life, dulled by the pain of rejection in everyday life, and the smiles came less and less, he was granted the brief reprieve of his dreams. Somehow, when his head hit the pillow, he was granted pictures of a young woman who laughed as the wind whistled through the magnolia trees which bordered a small village, when he would suddenly appear and hug her, then she would kiss him on the cheek, regardless of his age, and both would laugh loud with joy emitting from them in huge loads. When it was dark, his subconscious took over, and it made him happy.

_Then he met Michelle._

That's when everything changed. You see, Colin could handle the rejection. He could not handle the _pain_. From the get go, the older woman seemed to know what he could do. His dreams turned into nightmares when he met Michelle, and he was then sentenced to a life of misery, and even though he held onto those first six years of dreams with the woman who he wished he had in life, it was merely a delusion his decreasing mental sanity could conjure up.

Michelle was a young woman, perhaps her mid-thirties, but she seemed to know things well beyond her years. For some reason, even from the moment Colin first stepped across the threshold into his new foster home, she hated him. _No_, Colin concluded years later, she _loathed_ him, _despised_ him. He never knew why, just that she took it out on him daily. The other children were safe and secure in their beds, and they were given food when wanted, hugs when scared, and love when there was none. Colin, on the other hand, was denied the basic necessities of life: food was sparse, hugs and love were nonexistent, and safety and security could never be found. It wasn't so much physical abuse as mental. The only lasting scares he had from that time were the memories of her cruelty and the malnourishment that followed him for almost the rest of his life.

Of course, there were the occasional slaps Michelle dealt out to "control his naughty behavior" but there was something else that happened there. An event that Colin could never talk about because it would cause him to be thrown into a mental asylum. After all, who would believe anything regarding _magic_? You see, Michelle seemed to know what he could do from the moment she met him. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Colin could hear her murmuring words that seemed as ancient as time itself and a few times after that, he swore her eyes turned the same brilliant gold his did. After any such happening, his magic would be repressed for days. Colin, if he had a choice, wished that his magic would be repressed for all of eternity. However, when his magic was repressed, he felt ill. He felt empty. It seemed, however much he tried to deny it, magic was a part of him. He couldn't get rid of it no matter how hard he tried. And after every episode, it always came back.

He was sentenced to this life, and there was no way to change it.

Colin stayed in Michelle's care until he was twelve years old. She never sent him away, and he knew if he fought back, it'd end rather badly. By the time the six years had passed, it felt so much longer. It was the worst place he had ever stayed, but the way Colin saw it, he had a roof over his head and (sometimes) food in his belly. He had nightmares of what had occurred, and he doubted they would ever go away, but he wasn't taking anything for granted. He had become used to the day-to-day life here. However, everything changed the day Michelle tried to take his magic. Colin wouldn't have fought her save for the fact that she tried to kill him to do so. Contrary to popular belief, Colin would rather live alone with magic than die without it.

It started on a day much like any other. He was sprawled across his cot in his shared bedroom, scrawling aimless answers across a page in his textbook when Michelle's voice rang out from the open door, echoing from her room down the hall. He hesitantly pushed off the bed, stepping into the empty hall. The rest of the children were out and about on the Saturday morning, so unfortunately, it was merely he and Michelle that occupied the premises.

"Michelle?" Colin asked tentatively. "Did you-"

All it took was one quick glance in his direction before the older woman's eyes flashed a bright gold, sending him flying into the opposite wall. The world was spinning as he hurtled into the nightstand beside the dresser, the furniture splintering into pieces, the wood piercing his torso. The wind had been knocked out of him, and he just lay there, gasping for some form of air. His vision began to blur as his head throbbed on endlessly. Pain was all he felt; darkness was all he heard; and it seemed like nonexistent screams was all he heard.

Michelle's soprano voice sang out like wind chimes from across the room. "You're quite different, Colin. How brave you used to be. If only it were true in this life." Her trickling laughter sounded as she crept forward, navy eyes flashing as she brushed her dark hair behind her ear. "Alas, you don't remember _anything_. It takes some thrill out of the game, I'll admit, but it'll be all so worth it when I win."

"I don't _understand_!" Colin gasped, fighting to stand on trembling feet.

"We used to be too valuable to be enemies, but it seems you made it so," Michelle said, sending shivers down the boy's spine. "I am going to do what I should have done all those years ago on that god forsaken Isle. I am going to make it so that I will bring about destiny this time."

Colin tried relentlessly to stand as Michelle whipped her hand in his general direction, sending him sprawling across the floor. "_You have magic!"_ Colin cried out as he propped himself on shaky hands and knees.

"Don't act so surprised! You knew all along. You and I are both creatures of the Old Religion with one difference. I remember who I am, what I was. You… You know _nothing_. You're simply an unwanted child. Your own mother was scared of what you could do. No worries, though, my dear Colin. I shall take what is rightfully mine. It's taken me six years to gather the necessities for this specific ritual, but you should thank me. You won't have to worry about your magic ever again. That's what you always wanted, right?"

Colin tried to do something, anything, but Michelle interrupted his train of thought with a single word. "_Ástríce_!" Her eyes glowed gold.

Colin once more felt the ground leave from beneath him as he went sailing into the wall. His right ankle was pinned under him as he collapsed to the ground; it twisted in a way it wasn't supposed too and he was sure he heard something snap. The pain was absolutely mind numbing. It traveled up his leg and throughout the rest of his body, stealing away his ability to scream or even breathe as he lost his footing completely and plummeted downward. Another agonizing jolt shot through him as he hit the floor.

Colin did not move for a moment or two, just lying on the ground limply, completely unaware of the world around him. He spent an undeterminable amount of time simply laying there, trying to force some air into his lungs. His vision was suddenly dark around the edges, and he knew he was on his way to passing out from the pain that throbbed through him, originating from his twisted ankle. The rest seemed to happen too quickly. He could hear Michelle's voice murmuring words in the same ancient language as before, but he heard it through a murky curtain. He rose shakily on his hands and knees and attempted to stand. It was the wrong idea. A wave of nausea rolled through him and he gasped, spewing the contents of his stomach out onto the bedroom floor.

He did not know how long he stayed like that, propped up and trembling. It felt like a lifetime honestly. Sweat dripped from his hairline and slide down his face, dropping from his nose and chin to the floor. Pain drummed a rhythm against his skill, and he couldn't even hear Michelle anymore. Misery and exhaustion seemed to flow through his veins as naturally as his blood did. He might have stayed that way forever if it had not been for another voice to emerge from the surrounding air.

It was like a memory.

"_Your childish tricks are useless against me, Merlin. I am a priestess of the Old Religion. Forbærne! You, too, are a creature of the Old Religion. You should join me_."

"What?" Colin stammered, trying to make sense of the words. It was in Michelle's voice, but his mind flashed him a picture of a desolate island, his foster mother in a torn dress, her eyes glazed over with arrogance and hatred.

_"You think I would join forces with such a selfish and cruel magic? Never."_

His chest burned, but Colin couldn't remember ever hearing it. The air seemed to crackle with the amount of magic Michelle was summoning, her voice growing octaves higher, her chanting longer.

_"Pity. Together we could've ruled the world."_

Colin's own voice thundered back._ "You should not have killed my friend."_

He could hear the distant screams of the memory Michelle, but he didn't know what was real. In that moment, Colin truly feared for his sanity. It felt like he was under water, unable to breathe or comprehend the situation. He knew of two things: his ankle was severely injured and that Michelle was going to kill him. Summoning the strength he had within him, Colin pushed himself off of the ground and grasped onto the edge of the bed for leverage. He rose unsteadily, but he stood up none the less. The movement caused another roll of nausea to wash over him, but he ignored it and staggered to the closed bedroom door where he knew he could escape into the world - albeit frail, lost, confused, hurt, sick, and all alone.

"_Agan __mé bealucræft!"_

From the second he saw that dagger hurtling toward him, reacting purely on instinct, he sent the weapon flying back. It hit the target and Michelle fell to the ground, fighting to stop the blossoming bloodstain that blanketed her blouse. Colin knew he had to get away from the scene, but it didn't stop him from hobbling around. He couldn't get blamed for her murder. He didn't even have time to think of what he had down, killing a person. It didn't matter if she was going to kill him. He had killed someone with his magic. He was a murderer.

He knew that now. However, he also knew that he would have to survive, and if that meant accepting his fate, then so be it.

He rushed forward, falling beside Michelle's body and scrambled for the phone. If he could make it seem like she staged the first attack, then it'd be alright. He couldn't be sent to the Horror House as the rest of the children called it. The place where foster kids like themselves were thrown into a place where everyone had problems. Colin assumed it would be worse than Michelle's.

"_Please_," he gasped out when the operator greeted him. "My foster mother… She tried… _She tried to kill me_!" He didn't need to pretend to portray his fear; the quiver in his hysterical voice would convince them enough.

He had stood, shell-shocked at the scene at hand, as he awaited the arrival of the police. Time continued on as the investigation pressed, but it had no effect on Colin. His thoughts were fading in and out, black and blue and white and gray flooding his mind. He could not pinpoint anything or anyone or anyplace. Everything was so foreign and dull. Eventually, the police dubbed it as an accidental death or whatever they called falling on the knife now a day when attempting to murder someone else. In the end, the case was wrapped up; Michelle was dead; and the children were given to different homes.

However, Colin was always suspected for the crime but never prosecuted.

Instead, he was sent away to a multitude of foster homes. He stayed with the Henson's for two years, the nonchalant Derek Watson for another two, and then, he met Tom. Tom Ellis. He was the type of person who had foster kids for the money. Every month, the state would send him a check to cover the necessities of caring for Colin, but the teenager never saw that money. Tom was just like Michelle. He seemed to know Colin from the very beginning, knew what he was and who he was. The minute the social worker closed that heavy, maple door of the apartment, the poor boy was against the wall, white-knuckled hands wrapped around his neck, words hissing through his ears, revenge at the tip of the man's tongue.

Tom was physically abusive, plan and simple. He had his own brand of discipline, and he exerted it whenever Colin refused to use his magic for his own gain. Colin never settled for it. He refused to stand down like a scared little child. He fought against Tom, eventually running from his care after eight months. It was the first time that Colin faced the horrors of the outside world.

As well as saw the hope of it all.

He had been on the run for two months when he first met Santiago. The older man had taken him into his home one winter night when Colin was at his lowest point, offering him shelter and warmth. It was the first time Colin ever remembered feeling safe other than in his dreams of the lady in the village. He remembered how Santiago had stepped forward while the night club owner prodded at him to leave the protection of the alley way. Colin had merely buried his face in his blanket as Mike pushed at him to move and coolly asked him to leave. He had ignored them in hopes of being awarded silence in surviving. He had been broken and alone, fighting to survive. It hadn't been long, however, when a comforting hand was placed on his numb shoulder. The only way he had felt it was the way the fingers brushed against his soft hair, wet from the snow that clung to his scrawny figure.

Santiago had rescued him.

But the safety and security wasn't guaranteed. The moment Colin's head hit the pillow, he was overwhelmed with more memories. He was in the wooden room, surrounding by mysterious smells and herbs. Santiago was a man named Lancelot and Colin was a man named Merlin, and they knew one another, separated by a single act that defined their friendship. Colin wished it was true, but the memory frightened him. It was like Michelle and a bit of Tom. Each had an alter ego in his head: Nimueh and Cenrad. But he couldn't make sense of it. He feared that he was losing his mind.

When he awoke, he opened his eyes to see a blank slate. There was silence. There was no fear or pain. He was safe for the moment. But if he concentrated enough, the silence which droned on around him was disturbed by his own stutters of breath as well as the nervous pacing of another body in the room, interrupting the serene setting he had been subjected too.

Santiago had startled him, and as he tried to leave the bedroom, the older man wouldn't let him. Colin had had to leave. He had no means of paying the man for his generousity, and what if Santiago discovered his magic? He'd be sent away for good reason! He knew he was sick, which, in addition meant that he could be exposed. The fears were choking him; when he was sick or distressed, his magic went haywire. When Santiago protected, Colin thundered back, and it caused the lamp beside him to burst into flames.

Colin had jumped back in fair, eyes shining with unshed tears at the events while Santiago stood, wide-eyed, as if seeing the sun for the first time. Colin gather his well-worn converses, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process of escaping the scene. Santiago instinctively reached out to grasp Colin's arm and prevent him from taking leave, but Colin fought back. He ripped his limb from the stranger, feeling heat rush to his head suddenly, and in the mirror across the room, noticed his reflection's eyes flashed a deep gold, visible to Santiago. With a startled yelp, Santiago pulled away, shoving Colin away from him in panic, feeling the rush of power tingle at his fingertips. Before he knew it, he was sent flying into the opposite wall. Colin screamed in terror, closing his eyes in alarm, and before he knew it, the sheets on the bed erupting into a bonfire, startling Santiago even further.

"_You need to calm down, Colin_!" Santiago had bellowed out, only to have the teenager take his distracted state to his advantage and make a bolt for the door, startling the other man with a fire extinguisher as he was leaving his room.

Colin found himself sprinting down the busy New York street, towards the alley way he had been discovered in the night before. He wasn't supposed to seek comfort for himself, because he was just the freak of nature from the foster system who would die on the streets and finally rid of the pain he suffered from daily, good as a stress reliever only.

But, for one moment, he wanted to be the boy in desperate need of a saving grace, and Santiago had offered an once-in-a-lifetime to heal some of the wounds that were scarred over and mottled. He could erase the splotches of blue and purple that adjourned his body. He could stop the pain stemming from reality itself. He could give Colin a purpose. Santiago was the Knight, but Colin was afraid because every once in a while his emotions got a hold of him and ruined any hope he ever held close.

He had expected Santiago to let him leave as he ducked into the alley, but the older man had followed him. He extended his help without asking for anything in return. He knew about Colin's magic and yet promised to keep the secret. Colin didn't know whether to embrace him or run far away. In the end, it didn't matter. Santiago offered Colin the name of someone who could understand his predicament – _his magic_ his mind whispered. In the end, it didn't matter. Mike, the nightclub owner, had reported Colin's whereabouts to the police and Tom had found him. He was sent back to live with Tom, but he kept a firm grasp on the name Santiago had given him.

_Richard Wilson._

The events leading up to his capture gave him a new hope. He never said goodbye to Santiago, even though he could somehow read it in the other's eyes. It was a solemn request to escape and come back, a note of finality that he would never give up. He did cry when he met Tom's gleaming gaze; instead, the tears burned at the front of his eyes, and finally spilled when the new bruises throbbed. Eventually, Colin let go of the hope of the possible escape, and the kind stranger was soon a spot of possibility in a sea of shrouded ignorance covering reality.

But no matter how many times Colin tried to mask him pain, he always remembered. Even though Santiago was gone, Colin never forgot him. He remembered the hospitality the man offered, the acceptance in his eyes, and the name he gave. As small as it was, it was a hope Colin welcomed. He moved through life with the same strong façade he portrayed on a daily basis, but there was a noticeable difference. For the first time in nearly a thousand years, Colin's blue eyes held a sparkle of happiness to them.

A week after his return, Colin tried to flee the foster system once more, to escape from the ghoul who wished to harness his abilities for evil. The idea of power corrupted his foster father, and no one ever paid a span of attention, spared his situation a second glance. He woke up in the middle of the night, screaming as sweat broke out across his brow from the nightmares, phantom pain succumbing to the brutal agony of reality's hands.

He needed to find _Richard Wilson_.

It was one cruel night when there was a chance.

Tom was angry, beyond actually. Colin had refused to aide him in the latest scheme without so much as hearing the proposition aloud. His foster father had loomed over him before striking. Now, two fists pounded him relentlessly as he peered through the closed slits of his eyes, holding tight against the pain in his stomach. The hits came all too frequently, and he tugged against the bindings that Tom had placed on his wrists. But the hand cuffs were doing their job, preventing Colin from any hopes of surrendering.

His attacked gazed on with a sharp smirk as he laughed another punch towards Colin's shoulder. Colin heard the bone crunch on impact and tears merely rolled harder down his already tear-stained face. He held in the screams. He would not give Tom the satisfaction of knowing he was hurting him.

A kick was forcefully thrust his way, and it clipped his injured shoulder. Colin hissed in absolutely agony. He felt each swift collision to his entire body and each time he struggled to keep in his cries. A particularly painful hit embedded itself between the bones of his rib cage, and the bones cracked.

His voice yelled out in pain; his screams reverberated off of the walls. Tom pulled back his fist once more. All that could be heard were Colin's echoing screams. All he could do was keep on yelling because if he tried to escape, it'd only make maters worse. He wanted it to be over.

"How does it feel?" Tom said, laughter booming deep in his chest. "Did it hurt you little son of a bitch?"

The words twisted and twirled past Colin's ears as the silence settled in. All that was audible were the sounds of Colin's sobs as Tom left the room, chuckling all the while, after untying Colin who was begging for relief from the pain he was enduring and the agony that was currently crippling him. The seventeen-year-old knew he needed to leave; if he stayed then there was a chance he might now make it out alive the next time.

Rocking back on his haunches, biting back the cries of pain, he shimmied over to his bed, gathering his belongings. The next few minutes passed by in a blur as Colin waited until Tom could no longer be heard before ducking out of his window and onto the fire escape below. When he finally hit the ground, he limped away from the apartment building as quickly as possible, the shivers racing down his spine, the blistery air making his breathes come out in clouds. He kept going. Something was pulling him away.

He wasn't sure how long he kept going, but, eventually he collapsed into a deserted alley. For some reason he felt safe there, for the first time in a long while, and he huddled in the corner, closing his eyes and falling into a fitful slumber. Moments later though, something clicked, and he opened them, knowing his magic was kicking in for his protection.

Someone was coming.

An old man toddled out into the alleyway and gazed at him. "Merlin," he whispered, hurrying forward, but Colin didn't recognize him and feared for the worse.

"My name's Colin," he stammered, flinching as the old man's hands came towards him. "Please… P-Please don't t-turn me in. P-P-Please."

"I won't," the old man vowed. He cocked his head to the side, analyzing the boy, before gesturing towards the open door. "It's cold outside. Would you like to come inside?" Colin blanched with fear. "Shh… You can trust me, Colin. My name is Richard, and I want to help you."

It was with hesitation that Colin took the old, weathered hand of the doctor. Something clicked once more and the memory of an aging physician danced at the forefront of his mind. His warm eyes looked on with pride, and he was seated across from Colin in the memory. Colin had no idea who this man was, but something told him it was alright.

For the first time, Colin knew he was safe.

Across the world, a mighty dragon answered with a deafening roar. Her warlock had been found.


	7. Tears of Merlin Emrys-Part Two

**Arthur's Note**

**Welcome** my wonderful writers, resourceful readers, and faithful followers!

First off, I have SO SICK the past few days, and it was like fighting tooth and nail to get this chapter out, so if it seems a little off, I'm terribly sorry/

I just want to gather all my followers, readers, and reviewers and give them a giant hug! You all so amazing, and I can't thank you enough for taking the time to read my story. I began this with a hesitant idea of where I was going, and seeing the success you guys have made it acts as another muse entirely. The last chapter alone received 24 reviews alone, and in total, I have 153 followers. I want to name all of you, but I feel like it would take so much time and delay the chapter even more, so I'll just leave you with a new chapter as a THANK YOU.

This is the second half of my Colin/Merlin chapter. When I first started writing this, I had about 5K words when my computer accidentally ate the chapter, and I lost EVERYTHING. So I had to rewrite the entire thing from memory, but I feel like I was able to add a lot more depth to the situation. I know the Gaius/Merlin situations mirror the first episode, but I feel like it was the correct way to go about it. Some people might think it's a bit cheesy/corny, and I realize it is, but I'm a sentimental person, so I am continuing with this route.

_AND_, I apologize for all the mistakes/typos/errors in the past chapters. Luckily, I found **CaptainOzone** who beta'd this chapter, and I owe her so much. She's a miracle worker, seriously.

Another note, a reviewer brought up the case (thank you, **Insanityisgood25**, seriously, you've have my back the past few times, and I can't thank you enough for that xD - take an extra cookie) that I should have put a warning on the last chapter about the abuse/whump/sensitive parts of the chapter, and for that I apologize. I totally meant to put that there, but it slipped my mind at the last minute. So, in the future, I will try to put the warning up, but I will remind you guys that this story is rated T. I do have references to child abuse, drug and alcohol use, and violence. I don't write them just for the hell of it. As Oz put it in her review, my whump does have a purpose most of the time. If anyone feels like I should move the rating to M, just send me a PM or drop it me a notice in a review. Thanks. ;)

Remember to check my website whenthestormisthrough which is my TUMBLR url. I post chapter updates and some excerpts as well as all things Merlin on there.

In this chapter, Michelle is Nimueh. Tony is Uther. Bradley is Arthur. Katie is Morgana. Richard is Gaius. Colin is Merlin. And Tom is Cenrad.

Since some people haven't seen all of S5, **Spoilers for Season 5 in this chapter. **(Let's just remind everyone that for this story, spoilers for S1 through S5).**  
**

Actually, there are **big** 5x13 and 1x01 spoilers for this chapter.

Again, here's the usual. Enjoy the chapter, and please review. All reviewers get a cookie, and I try to reply to everyone of you :) I like to hear what you thought of the chapter, what you didn't like, any questions or concerns, your favorite parts, and any suggestions/comments about my writing in general. Reviews make me feel so warm and fuzzy inside, and it's amazing. It's like so addicting... Alright, I've kept you long enough, and if you bothered to read this, thank you.

Onto the chapter,

**Erin**

**{Recommended Reading: Until the Day I Die by Estrelle Buscador}**

**WARNING: mentions of child abuse/drug and alcohol abuse**

* * *

**Chapter Six  
**_"They say before you start a war,  
You better know what you're fighting for.  
Well baby, you are all I adore,  
If love is what you need, a solider I will be.."  
-"Angel With A Shotgun" by The Cab_

* * *

Colin didn't like to dream.

It wasn't that he didn't want to relinquish reality's hold for a few hours and slip into oblivion – no, there were some days when he wished for nothing more. For Colin, it was the fact that he was never granted serenity; instead, he was sentenced to a fitful slumber where nightmares of past events flooded his mind. Sometimes he dreamed of Michelle's dark blue eyes flashing wildly before the dagger plunged into her chest. At other times, it was Tom's laugh resounding endlessly through Colin's head as he tried to defend himself from the numerous blows. On rare occasion, though, he didn't mind the dreams since they brought him something.

It wasn't peace but rather a reprieve.

On some nights, he'd nestle deep into his pillow and surrender himself to tales of knights and dragons. There was a damsel in distress in the top of the tower and a courageous king who went to save her. There were wizards and witches, magic used to protect great princes. Good always triumphed, and it made Colin smile. He knew they could never be real since he had been swimming in Hell's waters since he was born, but it was nice to believe that there was some goodness in the world.

This time, however, Colin's dreams didn't make any sense.

He had no memory of ever falling unconscious, but when he awoke, his body felt numb and he felt _safe_. The only image dancing at the forefront of his mind was of a kind old man who extended a hand to aid him, offering security where there was fear and love where there was none. It wasn't from this century, though; instead, the old man was in the middle of a medieval town, beaming with pride.

_Gaius_, his mind whispered, and the name rolled off his tongue subconsciously, but Colin couldn't make any sense of it...

He slowly opened his eyes to a dimly lit room, and only then did some semblance of pain begin to build. His neck was sore from his whiplash during his incident with Tom, and his skull throbbed in time with his heartbeat which pitter-patted away at the speed of a hummingbird's wings. He took a deep breath and attempted to sit up, using his elbows as leverage, but the moment he moved, a sharp pain shot through his body and he collapsed. He realized he was on a bed – a very comfortable bed - as he let himself relax. Sweat broke out across his brow, but Colin didn't have the energy to wipe it away.

He had never felt so helpless before.

Stealing more strength from his reserves, Colin gritted his teeth and made another attempt to right himself when the bedroom door opened. His body froze as if ice, cold water had been drenched on him, and his heart began to pound loudly in his chest. He didn't dare look at the door in fear that it was Tom and that this was all a sick, twisted game he was enacting. He waited with baited breath as a shadow loomed over him, clenching his hands into tight fists as he fought to restrain his magic.

"Colin?" The hoarse voice reached his ears, and he nearly sobbed with relief when he realized it wasn't his foster father. "How are you feeling?"

Colin turned his head to the side, meeting the wondering eyes of the old man from the night before. A blanket of white hair covered the top of the man's head, and bright blue eyes narrowed with an emotion Colin couldn't quite place. He wore casual attire, but his shirt was crumbled as if he had been grasping it to ease anxiety. Even now, Colin could see the man tapping his fingers along the edge of the cot. He crept closer, and Colin refused to move. He didn't understand why he stayed in place, but for the first time in a long while, he felt safe. For some reason, he knew that this man wouldn't hurt him.

"I'm fine," Colin grunted, but his throat flared with pain as if he hadn't talked in months. He knew it was raw from his screams the night before.

The old man, sensing his discomfort, offered him a glass of water, and the teenager chugged it down without a second thought. The old man chuckled lightly as he took the glass back, smiling down at the young boy. "Be careful, now. We just got you settled."

Colin swallowed a lump in his throat, fighting back a way of nausea at his uncertainty. "Where… Where exactly am I?"

"I found you in the alley last night behind my clinic. My name's Richard. I'm a doctor."

Colin closed his eyes tightly, trying to remember the events of the night before, but all he was left with was a hazy memory of Tom and then his escape. He remembered his fear of being hurt _worse_, the pure desperation, and above all, the need to _get away_, the need to find time to heal.

Suddenly, the edges of his vision began to blur as he snapped them open, panic taking hold of his frame and sending him skyward with fear. "I have to get home! Tom, he's-"

"Calm down," Richard said, soothing the seventeen-year-old, "You are in no shape to go rushing out of here like a mad man. You're injured, Colin. You need to rest."

"No," Colin said, shaking his head, trying his hardest to push past the pain and swing his legs over the side of the cot to stand, "You don't understand. He'll-"

Immediately, Colin reminisced on the words Tom had left him with after his last escape attempt. _"If you try it again, I'll report you. I'll tell everyone of how you have magic. I'll find a way to make your life a living hell, boy. Whoever keeps you away from me, I'll kill them. What about that sweet, little friend of yours that helped you last time? What was his name again? Santiago? He's first, you little bastard. You try to escape, and I'll kill him."_

Richard held his hands out in objection. "Just-Just-Just _stay_," the older man suddenly commanded, stammering over his words.

Colin froze. _"Just-Just-Just hold me."_

"Listen," Richard continued, "You have a GH dislocation and-"

"What?" Colin interjected, raising his eyebrow in confusion.

Richard offered him a fond smile. "You dislocated your shoulder… _Will you lie back?_" Colin managed to send him a sheepish look but cringed as he settled back into the pillow. "As I said before, you dislocated your shoulder. You have two broken ribs. Numerous contusions and lacerations – all superficial, don't worry."

There was a short beat of silence before Colin squirmed under Richard's analyzing stare. "Thank you, very much, but I really do need to go."

"You aren't going anywhere." Richard's quiet and frantic voice caused him to halt his actions, and a flash of panic reared its head, his magic flaring with the apprehensive emotions, and he struggled to hold down the rising power.

"Please," he choked out. It felt as if he had no energy left, but he knew he needed to get back to the apartment or Tom would have his head (quite literally perhaps). "You don't understand. He'll kill me! He-"

"Listen to me," Richard said, reaching out with a hand to grasp Colin's uninjured shoulder, paying no attention when the boy flinched away instinctively. He was insistent that he was going to keep him, and Colin feared what the outcome would be. "You need rest, and something tells me that where you want to go isn't going to give it to you."

Colin couldn't believe what he was hearing. This man – this man who had no knowledge of who he was – wanted to help him. He wanted to keep him safe. How could Colin repay him, though? He had no money, no source of income. The only thing he had to his name was his magic, but that could never _help_ him – only _condemn_ him. Colin tried to speak but his mind couldn't form the words he needed to convey his confusion.

Richard stood up and nodded towards him. "Try to get some sleep. I promise: everything will be alright. No one will hurt you while you're here." Colin let out a weak protest and tried to sit up, but Richard held him back once more. "Listen to me. _Colin, listen_-"

Colin kept trying to push past the older man, panic setting in. All he saw were Tom's cruel eyes flashing before his own, and he knew he needed to get back. He couldn't bear to think of what would happen if he stayed. Plus, he was growing frantic now at the thought of being forced to reside here, knowing he had neither the money to pay for Richard's hospitalities or the capability to restrain his emotions which would automatically trigger his magic and possibly injure someone.

It happened so suddenly, so abruptly, that it took Colin's own breath away.

His feeble struggle jostled the table beside the bed where the glass of water was perched on the very edge. It toppled over, and Colin lunged for it out of reflex. All it took was one instant. He felt the build up of warmth in his chest, the rush of power flooding down his arm, and his eyes flashed a bright, molten gold. Richard gasped, and Colin withdrew his hand in shock. The glass of water was suspended in mid-air, refusing to fall. As soon as Colin's attention was elsewhere, it resumed its travel, falling onto the ground below.

Colin froze.

The glass clattered below, rolling to a stop against the opposite wall.

Richard had seen. Someone knew about his magic.

_He was doomed._

The room was spinning, the sky was falling, and Colin was losing it all. He wanted to just slip away, so fate granted his wish. Richard's face swam before him, like a light beneath the water, and he surrendered to the shadows of ignorance, slipping under the surface, floating in a tranquil state. His mind was on the brink of unconsciousness, sleep taking over his every thought. He didn't remember Richard's reaction to his magic. He didn't remember giving into his pain and fear and sinking back into the soft mattress. He didn't remember Richard resigning himself to a frown of worry, pulling the blankets up beneath the boy's chin. He didn't remember the doctor resting a hand against Colin's forehead, feeling the tell-tale signs of an oncoming illness.

And he most certainly did not remember the fatherly way the older man had run his hand through the dark, messy locks tousled atop his head.

As the darkness settled for Colin, he began to dream in colors he didn't even know existed. There was no pain in his head – only peace. All he felt was someone's arms wrapped around him at every moment, comforting him. There was an older man there, murmuring under his breath, _"my boy, my boy_." (It sounded oddly like Richard). It came to a point where, in his thin state of being, he realized that this was what he always wished for: a home and someone to care for him.

But for that to happen, they needed to accept his magic.

Soon, his dreams wandered and a man came into view, but Colin could not tell who he was. He had bright blue eyes, not unlike his own, and golden blonde hair that fell into his line of sight. His face flickered behind Colin's eyelids. One moment, it was beaming with awe, as if a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. The next, it was sweaty, covered with dirt and grime, an expression of utter agony painting it. Colin struggled to make out the words the blonde man was hissing, but if he concentrated hard enough, he could barely hear them.

_"The person who defeated them was the sorcerer,"_ the man asked.

His own voice broke through his dreams. _"It was me."_

There were muted whimpers before the man spoke again. _"Don't be ridiculous. This is stupid. Why would you say that?"_

_"I'm a…"_ There was a break in the dialogue as he gathered his strength and replied. _"I'm a sorcerer; I have magic…. And I use it for you, Arthur! Only for you!"_

_"Merlin, you are not a sorcerer. I would know."_

The voices faded away until they were nothing more than whispers amongst his thoughts. Colin relinquished in his dreams that gave him some hope. Colin didn't like to dream, but for once in his life, he welcomed the reprieve because, for the first time, it gave him some hope for a better future where his magic could be accepted. The dream continued, fading in and out as black, blue, and gold. Everything was so foreign but bright.

As the dreams ventured on, the thought of joining a family was a blessing none the least. Perhaps, when he awoke, he would return to Tom's and set out to find his biological parents and discover answers he had sought after all these years. After thanking the kind doctor, of course, who cared for him in his darkest moments tonight.

With a small smile in his unconscious state, Colin let the darkness overcome him once more, continuing into the beauty of his dreams.

Perhaps he didn't mind dreaming sometimes.

* * *

Colin barely remembered waking up and finding Richard hovering over him. The doctor was taking his temperature, checking the thermometer with a raised eyebrow, glancing over at the boy's beaten form. Colin's eyes were slits, and he wondered vaguely if Richard knew he was awake from his slumber. He saw the older man reach out with his hand (Colin didn't bother to flinch away; he didn't have the strength) and softly stroke the teenager's shaggy hair in attempt to comfort him (from what, Colin didn't know). As his mind followed Richard's actions, Colin's eyes began to droop once more. It was then that he noticed how tired he actually was. His head lulled towards Richard as he slowly began to drift off to sleep.

Feeling safe for the first time in years, Colin surrendered himself to his exhaustion, but not before hearing Richard whisper something so low, it was a wonder Colin could pick it up. "_I'm sorry, Merlin."_

* * *

Colin dreamed of himself, a bright smile on his face, sitting on a wooden bench, and Richard tottered over opposite of him, placing a dish of steaming chicken and a piece of bread in front of him. "_You are and always will be the son I never had."_

* * *

The memories of last night floated around aimlessly in Colin's mind as he awoke in the same room as before. He blinked warily a few times and realized he wasn't alone. He turned his head to the side and saw Richard staring down at him. The doctor had clearly been awake for a while awaiting Colin's return to reality.

"Welcome back," he said, leaning forward as Colin shifted in the bed, attempting to sit up.

Richard slid an arm under Colin's shoulders, allowing him to gain some leverage until he was fully righted, the covers falling off his torso. The boy let out a quiet moan of pain at the movement, but the doctor paid no attention. He focused on getting the teenager situated before returning to his seat. Colin raised an eyebrow in the doctor's direction, waiting for the older man to make the first move.

"How are you feeling?" Richard questioned.

Colin ignored him, choosing to get to the situation at hand. "Are you going to turn me in?"

Richard's face remained impassive. "To where?"

"The… The g-government," Colin stammered, a flush creeping up his face as he thought back to the blatant magic he had shown when he had frozen the falling glass of water.

Richard chuckled lowly, shaking his head. "Of course not, my boy. Why would I do such a thing?"

"You saw my…" Colin swallowed a lump in his throat. "You saw me use…"

"Magic?" Richard proposed, and Colin merely nodded.

"It just happens! I-I can't control it half the time," Colin announced suddenly, panic breaking out across his expression. "I don't understand why I have it or how I got it – it's always been like that. I-I've had it for as long as I can remember. I… Tom knows about it… He-He… I need to go back or he'll turn me in… I just…"

"Is Tom your foster father?" Richard interjected, and Colin nodded mutedly. Richard seemed to disappear into a quiet reverie for a few, short moments before perking up and continuing, "I want you to stay _here_ and just _rest_." When Colin made a move to protest, Richard held up his hand, signaling that he required silence. Colin choked back his words, choosing to listen to the older man. "You are injured and need time to recover, which you will do before you even think about getting out of this bed. Do you understand me?"

The doctor's words were stern and strong, but they weren't overwhelming. Colin, after his many foster homes, knew which tones were threatening and which were merely giving directions. He found that he wasn't afraid of Richard at all. He had only known the man for a short amount of time, but something told him that he could trust him.

A sudden thought hit him, and he leaned forward, ignoring the pain, and stared Richard straight in the eyes. "How… How d-did you know my name?"

"Is your name Colin?" He nodded, somewhat hesitantly, and saw a content smile tug at the corners of Richard's lips. "First off, you told me last night when I found you." Colin barely had any recollection of their meeting; it was a jumbled mess within his buzzing mind. "Secondly…" Richard pursed his lips, preparing a statement, before sighing. "My name is Richard Wilson. A man named Santiago told me about you. Do you remember him?"

Colin nodded, eyes flashing with recognition at the name. "He took me in… He said you would be able to help me with my… my magic."

This changed everything, he realized. Santiago had promised that Richard would be able to understand Colin's abilities, be a saving grace to the ignorant, young warlock. How Santiago knew of Richard, Colin gathered that he would never learn, but nonetheless, he was grateful all the same. If there was a possibility that Richard could answer at least _some_ of his questions, explain _why_ he had these abilities, or if he could help him learn to _control_ them, Colin would be forever in the doctor's debt.

The teenager met the older man's steady gaze. "C-Can you help me?"

Richard closed his eyes and sighed. "Of course, my boy."

"_B-But how_?" Colin couldn't grasp the idea of how Richard could help him. Did the man have magic as well?

Richard smiled and reached down onto the floor, pulling an ancient book into view. Its pages had been damaged and were yellowed with age. It was covered in runes that, for some reason unbeknownst to him, Colin could understand as clear as day. Something called out to him; this book had a purpose. Richard placed it cautiously in Colin's lap, and the warlock held his breath as he lifted the cover and saw strange symbols written across the pages, some scrawled in a calligraphic fashion, others in another language yet handwritten.

Colin could still read them as if they were his native tongue.

"I-I don't understand," he began, casting Richard a desperate glance, but the older man chuckled lightly.

"This book was given to me when I was your age," Richard explained, studying Colin's reaction, "But I have a feeling it will be of more use to you than it was to me."

Colin leafed through the pages, awe struck, mouth open in disbelief. "But… This is a book of _magic!_"

"Which is why you must study it," Richard said, a wide grin plastered across his face. "If you are to ever learn to control your gifts-"

"_Gifts_?"

"Of course," Richard said, "You are special, Colin."

Colin rolled his eyes, his voice taking on a sarcastic edge. "How so?"

"Well, magic requires incantations, spells. It takes years to study. What I saw you do was... elemental, instinctive," Richard relayed, gesturing towards the empty glass still sitting on the table beside Colin's bed.

Colin nodded, hanging onto the man's every word. Already in the fifteen minutes since Colin met Richard, his life was already changed for the better._ "You are a question that has never been posed before, Merlin."_ The voice interrupted his thoughts, and Colin closed his eyes, unable to pinpoint the exact moment he had heard that statement before. He chalked it up to the side effect of whatever medication Richard had given to him for the pain, and raised his gaze, staring straight at Richard.

"I'm not a monster, am I?" he joked half-heartedly, a wry smile overcoming him.

Richard placed a tender hand on Colin's shoulder, gripping it with a secure grasp. "Don't ever _think_ that." His eyes were wild, but even with the strong emotion that they portrayed, they still seemed to have aged a thousand years.

Colin scooted closer to the edge of the bed. His muscles pleaded for him to return to the blissful slumber he had risen from, but the boy needed answers. "Then why am I like this? Please, I need to know why." He searched the doctor's face for an answer. "Do you know why I was born like this? Because… if you don't know the answers… Then n-no one does."

Richard smiled. "Your gift, Colin, was given to you for a reason."

"It's not a curse?"

"No, my boy. Magic must be studied, mastered, and used for good. There is a reason behind everything," Richard admitted, tapping the open book in Colin's lap. "If you can control your magic, you will do great things."

Colin bit his lip and sighed, almost afraid to ask the question, but he did so anyway. "Will… Do you think…? Well… Do you think that you could h-help me? Learn… Control my magic, that is?"

"I'd be more than happy too," Richard said. The older man stood up and headed for the door, indicating the window beside him. "It's getting dark; get some rest."

"I… I need to go home," Colin argued. "Please… Tom, he'll…"

"Can wait," came the nonchalant reply. "You can return in the morning. Good night, Colin."

Colin gazed at Richard's retreating figure behind heavily lidded eyes. "T-Thank you."

"Sleep well," Richard noted, cocking his head, and closed the door.

Colin waited until he could no longer hear the doctor's footsteps before springing into action. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, holding back the grunt of pain that threatened to escape him. He hoisted his body off of the bed, but it nearly caused enough agony to cripple him. Opening his mouth to drag in air like sweet nectar, he let out a heart-wrenching groan that seemed to originate from deep within his core. Stealing himself for the pain, Colin moved slowly through the room, spotting his duffel bag in the far corner. After retrieving it, he made his way to the window, but not before casting a last look through the room.

He was leaving the kind man who had rescued him, and Colin hoped that he would be welcomed back some time. Perhaps Richard would allow him to visit occasionally and teach him to control his abilities – his _gifts_. Above all else, Colin refused to let others go through what he did on a daily basis. If it meant sacrificing his one chance at happiness and a better life, then so be it. If it meant protecting Santiago, protecting Richard – the two saving graces that fate had offered him – then so be it.

Above all else, Colin knew that even if he never had a protector, he could at least be one for others.

* * *

"Welcome home," Tom called out as Colin crossed the threshold of his foster father's apartment. He ambled towards his bedroom in the back of the home, and Tom waltzed after him. "Thought I might have to track your little friend down for a while there, but then I though… 'No, Colin'll come home.' After all, he wouldn't want to bring his friend into this, would he?"

"You didn't exactly give me a choice," Colin grumbled under his breath as his dark fringe fell into his blue eyes.

"You don't even want to ask how I am?" Tom simpered. "With my little ward lost and alone in the city in the middle of winter?"

"I bet you were worried sick," Colin muttered.

Tom seized the teenager's arm in a vice grip, watching as pain flared across the younger boy's face. "You'd better hold your tongue, boy. We don't want others to be hurt for your insolence."

"Lucky you only have me to worry about," Colin answered, pushing open the door to his room, struggling to remove Tom's hand from his injured arm. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get some sleep."

"Oh no, no, no," Tom sang out in his deep, baritone voice whilst dragging Colin into the living room. He threw the younger boy, a cruel smirk upon his face, as he knelt in front of him. "You see, while you were gone yesterday, a social worker came by. Apparently, we're going to be welcoming two new roommates into our household tomorrow. How does that sound?"

"What?"

"Oh, I never told you, did I?" Tom sneered. His chocolate eyes flickered to Colin's concerned expression. "It's been in discussion the last few months, but two children are in desperate need of a home, and when I volunteered, the social worker immediately started working on getting them situated. Aren't you excited, Colin?"

"You're planning something," Colin responded hoarsely, his raw throat constricting painfully.

"Why would you assume something like that?" Tom questioned as he laughed. "As long as do what I ask, there's no reason why we can't get along with the two new fellas."

"If you think that you can hurt them to get me to go along with your schemes, you're going to be severely disappointed," Colin retorted. "I will keep fighting you. I won't stop."

"Do their lives really mean nothing to you, boy?"

"No," Colin whispered, locking Tom with his smoldering gaze. "They mean everything to me."

"How will fighting help them?"

"Because," Colin said, gathering as much strength as he could to come across intimidating. "I'll be fighting to _protect_ them."

* * *

Tony's life had been thrown a curveball the moment he realized that Bradley and Katie remembered their past lives in Camelot.

Adopting the identity of Uther Pendragon for the first time in his life, the lawyer set out to give his son and daughter the space necessary so that the three of them could deal with the following events. He knew that Arthur and Morgana needed time to digest that he had remembered all their lives and tried to placate for his wrongs committed over a thousand years ago. It wasn't easy, Uther knew, to let them go on with their lives and try to understand everything without his shoulder to lean on, but he knew they needed it.

He just hoped they would eventually forgive him.

Little did Uther know, they had forgiven him long ago.

He had started spending longer nights at his office in Baltimore shortly after his impulsive visit to New York City where he discovered the truth. Now a days, he wasn't as busy. No new cases had reared their heads, demanding his utmost attention and conviction. Life was seemingly normal in the typical sense of the word, but Uther could sense a growing confrontation on the horizon. He just never knew it would show up tonight.

It began with a phone call from an unknown number. It was late that night, approaching two in the morning, but regardless, Uther answered. "Tony James, speaking. How can I help you?"

"…_Uther_?" a hesitant voice asked, the familiarity echoing through the speaker.

Uther slowly raised his gaze, eyes burning through the receiver, almost afraid to answer the caller. After a short while, he prepared himself and spoke, "…_Gaius_?"

"I… I need your help," Gaius announced.

Uther could tell the situation was desperate if his old friend was seeking his aid. The doctor always preferred to solve problems on his own. "What happened?"

"I found Merlin."

"Arthur's servant?" Uther questioned, unsure if he had him correctly. "I thought you said that boy had died."

"I did," Gaius said, "But it turns out his mother had me fooled. I would never have expected her to…. Listen, the point is _I found him_, but I need your help, Uther."

"With what?"

"He's in foster care, and I want to gain custody of him."_  
_


	8. The Moment of Reality

**Arthur's Note**

**Welcome** my wonderful writers, resourceful readers, and faithful followers!

Hey guys! First off, thank you to my beta **CaptainOzone**. She's brilliant and you should all read her own stories.

I'm trying to keep this author's note short since most of them (especially last one) was so incredibly long. I want to thank all you reviewers (take some cake this time); all you new followers (the emails made me cry); and the new favoriters (I didn't stop smiling). You are all so wonderful, and I can't thank you enough for the endless support.

This is the next chapter, of course, and I will warn you beforehand that there is **Het** in this chapter and for the next few chapters following. I apologize if you don't like this pairing, but it is canon, and it is necessary for the sake of the plot. I promise, it's not just there for enjoyment - there's a purpose to it. Anyways, you are free to skim over that part now and in the future.

Remember to check my website whenthestormisthrough which is my TUMBLR url. I post chapter updates and some excerpts as well as all things Merlin on there.

In this chapter, Michelle is Nimueh. Tom is Cenrad. Colin is Merlin. Joe is Will. Laura is Freya. Sarah is the Lady Catrina (before the troll). And Richard is Gaius.

Big spoilers for **2x09.**

Again, here's the usual. Enjoy the chapter, and please review. All reviewers get a cookie, and I try to reply to everyone of you :) I like to hear what you thought of the chapter, what you didn't like, any questions or concerns, your favorite parts, and any suggestions/comments about my writing in general. Reviews make me feel so warm and fuzzy inside, and it's amazing. It's like so addicting... Alright, I've kept you long enough, and if you bothered to read this, thank you.

Onto the chapter,

**Erin**

**{Recommended Reading: Loyal 'Til the End by misti4492. This is such a great story, and it deserves all the recognition it can get. If you like stories by Captain Ozone or Stealth Dragon, I think you'll enjoy this one.}**

* * *

**WARNING: mentions of child abuse/drug and alcohol abuse**

* * *

**Chapter Seven  
**_"Don't you worry, don't you worry, child.  
You see heaven's got a plan for you.  
Don't you worry, don't you worry now."  
-"Don't You Worry, Child" by the Swedish House Mafia  
_

* * *

The most important thing to realize about Colin was that he didn't cause the _chaos_; chaos followed _him_.

Some might classify his incidents as _accident-prone_ or chalk it up to _clumsiness_. However, clumsy meant tripping over your own feet and falling head over heels down a staircase, booking a one-way trip to the emergency room and the dentist in the process. All people suffered from some type of an accident (at least) once during their lives. It was common knowledge that everyone exhibited chaos every once and a while as well, but for Colin, his life was nothing but one chaotic mess.

Being born with magic was just the first incident. Michelle gaining custody of him, attempting to kill him and take his abilities as her own, was the next chapter in his tale. Getting thrown into Tom's care was just the cherry on top of a sundae of misfortune. At seventeen, Colin was on a first name basis with his social worker. He knew that Sarah stopped by the local coffee shop before work everyday, treating herself to an iced caramel macchiato no matter what the temperature was outside. When someone was a part of your life for as long as Sarah had been in Colin's, you tend to learn a few of his or her habits.

Colin also knew that the coffee was a necessity because, if she could, Sarah would arrive drunk to work every day whenever she had to deal with his case. Sarah was in her late thirties, and Colin had been her responsibility since he was first thrown into foster system. Initially, she thought his situation would have an easy solution. She hoped to place in him in a loving home with a stable income and have the family adopt him within the year. However, things didn't turn out as originally planned. The first family returned him within the year and it continued, so on and so forth, until she met Michelle.

Honestly, Sarah thought that the older woman was a lifesaver. The foster mother had produced marvelous results in the system, and when she placed Colin in her care, she was desperate to see progress in his situation. Things went well for six years, and Sarah was prepared to close his file, dreaming of the progress lasting for another six. However, when Colin was twelve, Michelle died, leaving Colin and two other children without homes. The claim was that she attempted to murder Colin, but the police had their suspicions that the twelve-year-old had some hand in her death. When they closed the case, Sarah would not argue. She knew Colin was a sweet-heart; he wouldn't hurt anyone. He was naturally timid and a real introvert, but he never displayed any tendency to violence.

There was a reason, though, that no foster family would accept him.

She moved him through two more homes before they found Tom. The man was a single parent, and she thought, as Colin grew older, he would need someone he could engage with, someone he could learn the rules and trade of reality from. Tom seemed like a knight in shining armor for Sarah, so it didn't take long for her to place Colin in his care. She never heard from the two since. She made the routine check-ups, of course, and each time he seemed to be thriving under Tom's care. He smiled when she visited, offered the polite responses, and seemed to get along with Tom quite well.

She never noticed how Colin became more reserved, his smiles forced, and his eyes slowly dimming.

It was hard to pinpoint the reason that Colin fled, but when Sarah got wind of the news, she felt her heart thud loudly in her ears. Tom said he had noticed his ward becoming more withdrawn as days went on; he assumed that it was a phase. The police theorized that the teenager had entered a bad crowd, perhaps turning to drugs. _It happened all the time_, they said. _The kids fall off the map on a weekly basis_. Sarah knew Colin, though. He wasn't the type of kid to join a gang or dwell into trouble. However, when he was finally found and she dropped by for a visit, she found him with a broken wrist and bruises scattered about. He said he received them when a drug drop-off took a wrong turn, not that he'd admit it to the police. He had had negative experiences with them from the very beginning.

Still, Sarah didn't believe him. When she confronted him, his eyes pleaded for her aid. Tom was quick to reassure her that he'd give Colin all the rest necessary to make a complete recovery, ushering her out of the apartment as soon as possible. She caught Colin's expression before she left, a word of protest on the tip of his tongue. It was the first time she suspected Tom of abuse.

Like any social worker, Sarah worried about her charge more than anyone else. She had warned Colin to "not cause trouble" whenever he entered a new home. Colin always obeyed her directions to the par, but for some odd reason, the homes kept sending him back. He never showed any signs of ill treatment, so when she looked back on his odd behavior while in Tom's care, she often wondered if things weren't what they seemed in the relationship between Colin and his foster father. Perhaps if she read between the lines, she could decipher the hidden message that Colin had tried to tell her before Tom got in the way.

By the time Sarah set off to investigate the matter, two more children were placed in Tom's care. She couldn't do much to prevent the placement since she had no proof of abuse occurring in the home. Nonetheless, she scheduled more frequent visits to the foster home, knowing that while they may provoke Tom later on in the future, they also might just keep Colin floating above the surface.

In all, Colin knew his life was a chaotic mess. He knew Sarah recognized something, but he knew he couldn't speak up in fear of hurting the other two children or Santiago or the kind Richard. His life was one accident after another, but he tried not to let them affect him. He carried himself with his head held high, refusing to bow down to the ever-burdening pressure of life's many obstacles. He suffered through the trials to the get to the tribulations.

He wouldn't let the chaos affect him.

Nevertheless, it was important to understand that chaos followed in Colin's shadow, and on one bleak winter day in January, when the snow added to the already towering total, there was no difference. Colin wasn't surprised when the social worker who would deliver his two foster siblings – like a package one bought on eBay – turned up an hour late. Traffic was at a standstill, and the teenager even beat the city bus to the corner drug store on his way to pick up some groceries.

The arrival of his foster siblings had set Colin on edge since he first heard the news the night before. He had spent the entire morning arranging the spare bedroom for the girl, arranging the bed with a blue comforter and clearing out the closet of Tom's miscellaneous items. For his own bedroom (who he was sharing with the boy), he merely placed his bed on the other side, giving the other occupant a wide berth for his own belongings. Part of Colin was excited at the prospect of meeting new people, but the greater, more dominant part screamed that he needed to run, take the danger away from the helpless individuals that were unfortunate enough to be introduced to his life.

When time they arrived, Colin had formed permanent nail indentations in the heel of his palm after clenching his hands into fists repeatedly to control his anxiety. He calculated that by the end of the night, he'd have no skin left. The impending storm would only worsen them.

When the social worker introduced them, Colin knew his life would be forever changed.

Her name was Laura. The moment she crossed the threshold into the apartment seemed to be a missing puzzle piece to the enigma of Colin's life. His breath caught in his throat, and he inhaled her scent, the taste of strawberries on the tip of his tongue. It was as familiar as his name, yet he knew he had never encountered it before. It seized his heart, the feeling flooding his body, rushing through his veins as easily as his blood did. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew he wanted her to be a part in his forever.

Laura was beautiful to him. Her copper ringlets cascaded down her back, dusting her elbows, and as she moved gracefully across the floor, the light caught a few strands of her hair, highlighting their brighter shade. She peered at him with almond-shaped, chocolate brown eyes, an emotion akin to wonder crowding her features. She seemed drawn to Colin, the pull as strong as the bond Colin had fixated upon her. Laura was absolutely breathtaking with the rays of sun in her long mane and the stars of heaven's skies in her bright eyes.

Colin would give her the world if he could.

Joe followed his sister through the door. He cast an analyzing stare at his surroundings, narrowing his eyes at his future company. There was a hesitation in his actions; he looked about ready to jump in front of any danger to protect the ones he cared about. His blue eyes held Colin with a hint of apprehension as he analyzed his new foster brother, sizing him up in his mind, observing who would have the greatest chance of being victorious in a hand-to-hand combat. Colin didn't find him to be the least bit threatening, though, no matter how Joe tried to portray himself. He wasn't intimidating, but Colin knew he could be if someone endangered Laura. Waves of anxiety rolled off of him, and when he caught Tom's welcoming smile, the tide increased.

The social worker left after the primary introductions and Colin showed the two to their bedrooms, a sheepish smile on his face as he met Joe's glare after staring at Laura's retreating form a little longer than necessary. When he began the trek to his and Joe's room, he caught the younger boy casting odd glances over his shoulder as if he was mapping out the territory of the apartment in order to make a quick escape if necessary. Colin wasn't going to argue. He had done the same thing when he first arrived.

Colin pushed open the door, gesturing to the space that they would be sharing for their stay in Tom's care. "Welcome, I guess. Your bed's in the corner over there. I cleared out the closet, so you can put your things in there. I think that's about it…" Colin's voice trailed off, the tension settling in between the two occupants. "…I'm Colin, by the way."

He held out a hand in Joe's direction, but the blonde ignored it and ambled around the room slowly, craning his neck around the corner to the bathroom, spotting something of interest. Without a word, Joe entered the bathroom, coming out with a bottle of bleach in his hand. He met Colin's blue eyes with the utmost scrutiny.

"He's abusive, isn't he?" Though he phrased it as a question, Colin knew it was an observation.

"How… How did…?" Colin's tongue felt like sandpaper against the roof of his mouth.

"Please," Joe snorted, shaking his head as he threw the bleach into Colin's arms. "You think you're the first to deal with this _shit_? I was the same way. Bleach in the bathroom, rags in the corner, bloodstains-" He kicked the throw rug in the middle of the room with the tip of his foot, revealing a dark brown stain marring the white carpeted floor. "-On the carpet…" Joe shook his head as if he was unable to comprehend the situation. "_God damn it_!"

Joe threw himself onto his bed, laying his head in his hands, gripping his short blonde locks in frustration. Colin wavered, unsure of how to continue with the confrontation, but he eventually seated himself across from the boy, cocking his head in confusion.

"I don't understand," he began, "how you know about Tom."

Joe shook his head once more. "My dad was just like him."

"He abused you?" Colin asked softly.

A knock arose from the door, and Colin raised his gaze to meet the doe brown eyes of Laura. She squeezed through the slightly ajar barrier, closing it behind her. Silence followed her entrance as she crossed the room, plopping down on the floor beneath between her brother's legs. She reclined against the foot of the mattress, casually observing her surroundings.

When she noticed Colin's analytical expression and her brother's pursed lips, she shrugged and announced coyly, "Please don't stop the conversation on my account."

If Colin wasn't already taken back by these two, he was most certainly now. After a moment, he extended his hand to Laura. "I'm Colin."

"Laura. Laura Morgan, and this is my brother, Joe," she responded without faltering.

She was open to him, the exact opposite from her brother, and it only served in causing Colin to become more drawn to her. In the short time he'd known her, he knew there was something different about her. It stirred deep in his chest, moving through his body like molten rock, slowly changing the very core of who he was. It was as if Laura was unveiling a new part of him that he had yet to discover.

"Laura," he said, the name rolling off of the tip of his tongue like habit, and he couldn't help but smile at the sound of it. "It's nice to meet you."

She let a bright grin grace her features at his warm welcome, laughing lightly under her breath. "Nice to meet you too, Colin."

While Laura's expression was warm, Joe remained stoic. "Now that the formalities are out of the way, I'd appreciate it if we could return to the matter at hand."

"Of course!" Laura exclaimed, far too enthusiastic for it to be anything but sarcasm. Her voice too a cold edge to it. "We just can't possibly forget that we've been thrown into another hell hole."

"We can always make a run for it," Joe murmured.

"_No._"

Colin's response cracked like a whip across the room, and it caused the brother and sister to turn to him in astonishment. He knew how it appeared. He was painfully aware of how they observed his every movement, noticing the twinges when he moved too far, the grimaces when he bumped his broken ribs, how he always placed distance between himself and Tom whenever they encountered one another. Laura and Joe hadn't even been in his home for three hours, but they had begun their scrutiny the minute they crossed the threshold into his world.

He knew they would try to escape, but he couldn't let them. As an experienced runaway, he knew that the streets were harsh. No one took pity on foster children, choosing to cast them out instead of offering aid so they could survive through the cold nights. The scenario in Tom's care was horrendous, and yet, it was still better than running away where life became bloodthirsty and was merciless upon the lost, broken, and afraid.

No, Colin told himself, he couldn't let them leave. Perhaps this arrangement wasn't the ideal one, but at least Joe and Laura could have shelter, food, and warmth – a place to grow, hope, and survive.

"And why not?" Laura questioned in confusion, scrunching her face together with irritation. "You want us to sit here and go through the same things we did before? Have someone _hur_t us, _break _us, _kill_ us?" Colin wondered if the words were physically straining her. "I'm not going to-"

"You won't be hurt," Colin argued heatedly, narrowing his eyes in defiance. "I won't let him touch you."

"They always hurt you," Joe said, crossing his arms.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Colin finally broke it. "You mentioned your dad… He was-"

"_Abusive_?" Joe exclaimed in exasperation. "Yeah. He abused us for four years before killing our mom just last week! Need any further explanation?"

"Look, I'm trying to help-" Colin began.

"You don't have to be a martyr for our sake, believe me, I can do that all on my own," he shot back, jumping to his feet, Colin following suit. Laura joined the confrontation, placing herself strategically between the two boys in order to stop them from attacking one another if things escalated. "All we need from you is to help us _get out of here_. I won't live through this again; I _refuse_!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" Colin argued.

"How?" Joe asked.

Colin sighed. "The only way he's going to be stopped is if you lie low and don't interfere. He'll only go after me, I promise-"

"So you'll step up and be the hero? Get all the honor and glory?"

His vision seemed to darken as a voice echoed through his head. _"No. You just want the honor and glory of battle! That's what drives men like you! Look, if you want to fight, then go home and risk the lives of your own people, not ours!" _Colin cast a fleeting glance around the room, and when he noticed that Joe was waiting for his reply, he chalked it up to lack of sleep.

"You think this is about _honor_ and _glory_?" Colin said, gesturing wildly to his right shoulder which was restrained in a black brace. "This happened not even a week ago when I came back. I was on the run for two months, and it got me nowhere! The police searched, and when someone finally reported me, no one gave a _damn_ where I went. They sent me back to Tom, and the moment I get back, I'm _pinned_ against the wall with that bastard's hands on my _neck._ So listen to me when I say _it's not worth it."_

He couldn't tell them the real reason as to why they couldn't leave. Tom would turn him in, reveal his abnormal abilities (_No_, he told himself, _gifts. Richard said they were gifts_). If word got out about his magic, he wouldn't be able to protect them; they'd be at Tom's mercy, alone in the apartment that had quickly become the seventh circle of Hell. He couldn't let them suffer the same fate he had.

"_This_." Colin stared at Laura and Joe, an apologetic smile on his face. "This is as good as it gets. Just… Don't aggravate him. Don't tempt him. Stay out of his way, and I promise you, it'll all be okay."

"You can't possibly promise that," Laura said, smiling wryly.

"I can."

"Do it," Joe directed, nodding at his sister. "Promise me that you'll protect her. Do whatever it takes. Don't worry about me. Whatever happens, make sure she's okay." He gripped Laura's arm with a tight grasp, reiterating his point. "She's my sister; she means everything to me. Promise me, Colin."

Colin took a few strides forward, holding out his hand in Joe's direction while looking at Laura. "I promise that I'll look after you," Colin vowed, his blue orbs piercing, seeming to gaze into the depths of her very soul.

There was a sudden rush, and Colin was pulled away from reality. He was thrown into a different scene in a different time. Laura's face was covered in dirt and grime, sweat gleaning under the flame of a torch._ "I promised you I'd look after you, and I will, no matter what." _There was a rustle of fabric, and he was leaning forward, watching her eyes falling shut as he blindly let his heart open. He pressed his lips against her own-

Joe's hand clasped his own, and Colin was thrust back to the situation at hand. He shook his head, as if in a daze, and struggled to regain his bearings. He didn't understand what he had just witnessed, but he would stay true to his promise. Joe and he were united under the single vow.

Laura was to be saved above all else.

* * *

Life wasn't a daunting journey. For the most part, Colin's life was a mediocre story that sometimes evolved into an epic tale. Life was all about writing stories, so when chaos threw an obstacle his way, he knew it was fate's way of writing a novel.

If there was _one_ thing that Colin was not used to, it had to be the element of surprise. It was the bitter effect that chaos offered him. He had long ago accepted the chaotic events uprooting his life, but they always occurred in the most unexpected ways. Someone once told him that he would one day do great things, and he wished day in and day out that it was true. However, life continued to lie out these obstacles, making it nearly impossible to achieve any sort of greatness, causing his life to be positively tragic instead.

But, for the first time, it seemed as if life was giving him a brief reprieve. Tom hadn't so much as threatened him in the following weeks, and Colin found that it was easier to protect Laura and Joe than he originally thought. The trio eventually grew close, joined at the hip on most days.

Joe and Colin had developed an understanding between one another, knowing that they'd do whatever it took to protect Laura. For Colin, he wouldn't let her suffer at Tom's hands like he did, and for Joe, he was saving his sister from what he couldn't before. Colin never learned much about the duo's past – only that their father was abusive and ended up killing their mother in a fit of rage. He was now in prison while the two, with no remaining family members, were set out alone into the world. Joe didn't talk much, and Colin found he didn't need too. There was a mutual respect between the two, and it built a stronger bond than they could have ever expected.

Laura and Colin would converse in secret when the time allowed it, and Colin opened up for the first time about his past. She now knew about Michelle's attempted murder and his attempts to escape the foster system. He told her of Santiago's kindness and his brush with death, of his terror when Tom eventually found him, and of the hope that Richard offered. Laura knew almost everything about Colin except about his magic. That was a subject that Colin strayed far away from, never acknowledging its presence in the time he had known Laura and Joe. He refused to confront the issue since all who knew about his magic always left him. He didn't want to be alone anymore. It was coming to a point where he needed someone, anyone, to save him, and Laura was becoming just the angel he needed.

A month had passed before any of them realized it, and with it, Colin's expectation for the chaos faded away. He was living life contently, and for once, he didn't want it to change. Sure, he could do away with Tom and be perfectly alright, but so long as he had someone like Laura or Joe, everything would be fine. However, it was a known fact that chaos always thundered after him, regardless of the reason.

Everything that had fallen into a comfortable routine changed the moment he entered his dream world one night. There was nothing spectacular about that particular day, but it transformed his world as he knew it.

Behind closed eyelids, flashes of colors, faces, and voices swarmed throughout his head.

_"She's only a girl."_ The rain pelted like iron bullets around an elderly man resembling Richard and himself as they brushed past a cage. _"She'll still fetch a good price though."_ A young girl's haunting stare lingered in his mind, stealing away the warlock's right to even think. He couldn't sentence her to the same fate he had escaped from. _Tospringe_ There was a bang of metal on metal, the shocked gasp echoing from the young girl inside. _Unspanne thas maegth! _The click of the cuffs sounded as well as their clatter as they hit the wooden floor. _Bryne_. He was leading the girl away, passing through the hallways of tunnels, darkness following, running from the enemy, a bounty hunter. _Halig_, his mind whispered.

The young girl wretched her hand out of his grasp, skittering back a few steps. _"Why did you do that?"_ He cocked his head, unable to understand her question. _"What?"_ She gestured towards him, her hands trembling. _"Help me?" _He resigned himself to a knowing smile. "_It could have been me."_ There was a short beat of silence as he got her settled, tension rolling off of her in waves. _"I'm Merlin, by the way."_ Toffee eyes hidden from view portrayed her hesitation as she murmured, _"Freya."_ He smiled once more, handing over his jacket. _"I'll see you in the morning… Freya." _He turned to leave, and the girl showed her gratitude with a murmur of thanks.

The scene faded to black until he returned, food clutched in his hands. _"I know what it's like to keep secrets." _Her questioning gaze spoke volumes. _"Does anyone else know you have magic?"_ He shook his head sadly._ "Only you… And one other person, but, I don't think he understands." _He laughed lowly as the beautiful candle flames danced through the air, a waltz of wonder in Freya's eyes.

He left soon after, coming back to find her tear-stained face looking up at him. _"What's wrong? Did you think I wasn't coming? I promised I would."_ She sent him an apologetic smile. _"I scare most people away."_ His smile was grand compared to hers. _"Well, I'm not most people."_

They sat back, reminiscing on their respective pasts. _"My family died."_ He cocked his head in confusion. _"Have you been on your own ever since?"_ She nodded, and he vowed, _"Well, you aren't alone anymore. I'm going to look after you. I promise."_ She shook her head, rejecting his offer. _"You can't look after me. No one can-"_ He interrupted her statement with a hysterical edge to his voice. _"I don't think you understand! I've… never known anyone like you."_

Their hands clasped together, he pulled away. She pulled back, her grasp tight_._ "_Merlin, I've never known anyone like you either._"

He brought food again. She was sad again. He spoke a single word, the spell creating a flicker of hope. "_That's not strawberry,_" she commented as he conjured a single rose, the flower of love. "_It's the right color," _he answered with helpful laugh. "_Why are you so good to me_," she said with a questioning stare. "_I like you. With you, I don't have to hide anything,_" he announced, smiling brightly. A helpless shake of the head. "_Merlin, I'm not like you_-"

Running. Running. Running.

The faint echo of feet disappeared. _"I can't go back in that cage."_ He refused to allow it to be so, and he reiterated his promise. _"I promised you I'd look after you, and I will, no matter what."_

_"You really don't know how special you are, do you?" _She cast him a quizzical look._" Being different is nothing to be scared of."_

Her eyes started to shut as he leaned forward, blindly letting his heart open. He pressed his lips against her own. She parted hers slightly, drawing towards him, yielding to the soft strength of his kiss that engulfed her, gaining in strength until she found herself wrapped up in him, body, heart and soul. It was a split second, but a moment of their possible forever. His lips spoke of hope and love; hers spoke of forever.

They pulled away, the candlelight reflecting in their eyes…

"_Merlin, you have a good life here."_ His hopeful gaze danced with a carefree grin. "_We'll go somewhere where no one knows us, somewhere far away."_ Her sad smile answered. "I _want that more than anything_." His laughter rang clear, their minds painting a future together.

_"A few cows."_

_"And a lake."_

He carried a purple dress. "_You look like a princess_." Her face crumbled. "_I'm not. I can't take this_." He cast her a saddened expression. _"I don't understand._" There was another shake of the head. "_You keep doing all this for me; I don't deserve it_." His selfless prodding pushed her to agree. "_We can leave tonight, as soon as it gets dark, and we'll be together_."

They had their dreams, but the indecision, her hesitance of the truth. Would it work?

The kiss, stealing away his right to even breathe.

"Colin."

A bastet. "_No, you're wrong. Freya is just a girl_."

He had to reach her. She was gone. "_She doesn't deserve to die… I just hope she's safe_." There was a flash of the sword, the whine of a cat. The nightmare began. His hand was on her head, the soft stroke easing her panic. "_You're safe now."_ His worry spiked ten-fold as he took her in, her pained cries, her soft sobs, her story. "_She cursed me to kill forevermore_."

"Colin!"

He made another promise. _"I'm going to make you better, Freya."_ She gave him another shake of the head. There were a lot of those. _"The wound's too deep."_

"Colin, wake up!"

He carried her to a serene, still lake. "_You remembered_." His soft gaze, his shaking hands cradled her. "_There must be something I can do, someway to save you_." She set her face, eyes fluttering, "Y_ou already saved me. You made me feel loved_." She exhaled, shoulders heaving, warm breath on his face. "_I don't want you to go_." He pleaded, his loving nature vulnerable to all. "_Someday, Merlin, I will repay you. I promise_." Her last heart beat.

"Colin, it's Laura! Please!"

The loss, the agony, the fire… _Westiray. Wecce on saebat baelfyra maest._

His heart breaking, his magic flashing. Through golden eyes, he watched her leave him.

Forever…

"Colin!"

He bolted upright, drenched in sweat, shoulders heaving forward as he struggled to regain his bearings. "What? No… Freya!" He stammered as everything spun, tilting off balance. His world became slippery, and he fought to keep a grasp on reality.

"Colin," Freya (_No, no! Laura. She's Laura! Who's Freya?) _repeated, her voice louder and clear, ringing with clarity now that he had emerged from his dreams _(Nightmares)_.

Colin awoke fully, seeing the dull light of the morning flood through the window, his vision swirled ever so slightly as he tried to adjust to the grand scheme of things. Nothing made sense.

What had happened? Who was Freya?

…Who was he?


	9. The End of the Beginning

**Welcome** my brilliant buddies to the next chapter of TFR!

This chapter is called **The End of the Beginning** since we've introduced just about everyone and now the story's really starting to gain momentum. I don't know if anyone noticed the chapter titles, but for those who asked, yes, I am basing them off of Merlin episodes.

**BIG NEWS.** I just got my first job! I'm working in a baseball stadium; I'm so excited. Anyways, I start in April, so it might mean slower updates. This next chapter might be awhile to finish though too; it's very important to make sure I get it right, so... Anyways!

Thank you to my beta **CaptainOzone**. She's got this chapter back so fast! I was so impressed :) Thanks again, hon. Thank you to the readers, reviewers, and followers/favoriters. You are all amazing. I didn't realize I had 135 reviews until yesterday. You are officially the best people on Earth.

**Het** in this chapter :) Some spoilers for **2x09. **In this chapter, Michelle is Nimueh. Tom is Cenrad. Colin is Merlin. Joe is Will. Laura is Freya. Sarah is the Lady Catrina (before the troll). And Richard is Gaius.

Remember to check my website whenthestormisthrough which is my TUMBLR url. I post chapter updates and some excerpts as well as all things Merlin on there.

Enjoy the chapter, and please review. I like to hear what you thought of the chapter, what you didn't like, any questions or concerns, your favorite parts, and any suggestions/comments about my writing in general.

Onto the chapter,

**Erin**

**{Recommended Reading: Something More by Captain Ozone. It's by her, that's enough said.}**

* * *

**WARNING: mentions of child abuse**

* * *

**Chapter Eight  
**_"Something has changed within me,  
Something is not the same.  
I'm through with playing by the rules,  
Of someone else's game.."  
-"Defying Gravity" by Wicked (The Musical)_

* * *

Laura had always remembered.

"_I promise that I'll look after you,"_ Colin had vowed, his blue orbs piercing, seeming to gaze into the depths of her very soul.

Ever since those seven words were uttered, the memories returned the moment her head hit the pillow, and she surrendered to the dream world that had all the answers she needed. When she first met Colin, she had been drawn to him, and she couldn't stop herself. Something tugged at her heartstrings, throwing her sky high at fate's hand. She had no choice in the matter: there was something about Colin that she couldn't put her finger on, yet she knew he was important to her. Perhaps they had met long ago, she has reasoned, but when her memories came to her, she knew they had. Long ago, when he was a servant and she was a Druid, thrown together but interrupted by fate.

She had spent the past month attempting to rebuild the brief relationship she had shared with Merlin back in Camelot. They conversed when Tom disappeared to his room and when Joe was preoccupied elsewhere, unaware of the blooming connection between his sister and roommate. Over time, Colin opened up about his past, telling her of the horrid Michelle and his attempts to escape the foster system. He told her of the kind Santiago, who had offered the first flicker of hope he'd had in a long while. He told her of the horror when Tom found him, of the aid Richard offered, and of his dreams when he would finally start life outside of foster care. He told her everything.

In return, she told him of how she wanted to live in a small town that bordered a lake someday. The town would be surrounded by the tallest mountains. She imagined how, in the winter, the storms would whip up the water into waves. Colin chimed that they would probably crash down and take away all the houses, and he would add his own descriptions into the imaginary dream, of how, in the summer, all you saw were wild flowers and light. _It would be like heaven_, Freya concluded. It was times like this that told Freya that the Merlin she loved was somewhere beneath the introverted exterior that Colin portrayed.

She knew virtually everything there was to know about him and vice versa – except for the one secret Colin harbored from everyone. Whereas he once displayed the utmost happiness when performing magic, he now shied away from its presence, never acknowledging it as a part of himself. Freya refused to push him on the issue though, even if she knew. In good time, she hoped that the warlock would come forward with his secret, but much like the Merlin she used to know, he had been conditioned to hide his gifts on pain of death.

She had quickly come to realize that he had no memories of Camelot, and it would be some time before he remembered. Still, she was confident that one day he would wake up and realize who she was, who he used to be, and all would be like it was supposed to have been a thousand years ago if she hadn't been cursed.

Things began to escalate between the two of them, and Freya knew that what she was feeling for real and true. The way Colin looked at her, as if though he wanted to give her the whole world, made her feel special and wanted. It made her feel loved. She had taken to treating him the exact same way. They were perfectly content to simply be in one another's company, and even though it had been a month since they first met, things were changing.

It happened one night when Colin woke up screaming _her _name. Not the foster child's name but rather her Camelot name. _Freya_, she realized with a bright smile, _He called me Freya. _When she rushed into his room, Joe was propped up on his elbows, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, startled by Colin's cries. Colin himself was nestled in a tangle of blankets, thrashing wildly, eyelids fluttering. She could make out the faint trace of gold behind his lashes, and she was catapulted a thousand years back when he made the candle flames dance with a few words.

"Colin!" she repeated multiple times, grasping his shoulders, shaking him, attempting to pull him from his fitful slumber.

Suddenly, Colin bolted upright, drenched in sweat, shoulders heaving forward as he struggled to regain his bearings. "What? No… Freya!" He stammered as everything spun, tilting off balance. His world became slippery, and he fought to keep a grasp on reality.

"Colin," Freya repeated, her voice loud and clear as she tried to gain his attention.

Colin awoke fully, seeing the dull light of the morning flood through the window, his vision swirled ever so slightly as he tried to adjust to the grand scheme of things. Nothing made sense. In this state, he was lost. He couldn't calm himself. It was as if he was on the edge of a ledge, teetering violently. If he fell, he'd enter the world of his memories where he was a sorcerer, and his friend was a King, and he possessed the magic to move mountains.

Freya's mind was screaming at her to do something, distract him from this reverie. There were butterflies in her stomach as she reacted on instinct, leaning towards him, and capturing his lips in her own. The feel of his lips on hers was electrifying, sending bolts down to her frayed nerve endings, making her body tingle with the magic that thrummed through him. The magic that brought them both back, that gave them another chance, and that ignited what was hidden deep inside them. It pushed her farther, and Colin returned the kiss with fervor.

Neither wanted the kiss to end. He pulled away only to have Freya wrap him ebony locks in between her fingers, burying herself in his very essence, witnessing everything that made him Colin – everything that made him _Merlin_.

When they finally did part for air, she looked into his eyes with longing; a small smile breaking out across her face, "Sorry," she said, but she really wasn't. Colin gazed at her through heavy-lidded lashes, unaware of her rising panic. The kiss had thrown her world out of control, spinning wildly off of its axis. Time froze at the reality of what she had done, and Freya's heart sped up.

"No," he said after a short beat of silence. "It's perfectly fine…" He shook his head, smiling brightly. "That's quite the wake up call."

A sudden thought crossed Freya's mind, and she cocked her head, analyzing the warlock. "You… You called me Freya." She bit her lip, swallowing the bubble of hope that was building in her chest.

Colin frowned. "I don't… I don't remember… I'm sorry," he quickly apologized, sending her a sheepish grin. "I don't know why I did that."

Freya stood up, shifting her weight to her back foot, biting her lip nervously. "Oh, it's alright." She tried not to let the disappointment show on her face as she ducked her head from view. "You were having a nightmare, so I just… I…"

A movement to her left caught her attention, and she glanced at Joe, seeing his apprehensive eyes, knowing he was going to have a serious talk with his roommate the moment she left. Joe was as overprotective as any older brother, and Freya knew that she couldn't sentence Colin to that. Still, the temptation was too sweet to give up, so she pulled away reluctantly, flashing her brother a mischievous smile.

"I'll see you two later," she announced, but no sooner had she moved towards the door than did Colin rushed to his feet.

He reached out to grasp her hand, pulling her towards him once more. His lips pressed against hers, and she lost herself in the kiss. If she could kiss Colin forever, she would do so without any regrets. They were interrupted by a cough, and Freya pulled away, casting her brother a steely glare.

Joe merely crossed his arms across his chest in defiance. "Do you mind if I talk to Colin real quick?" He plastered a sickly, sweet smile, and Freya heard Colin gulp in dreaded anticipation.

"Don't hurt him too much," Freya called over her shoulder, attempting to withdraw herself from Colin's hold. "I'd like him in one piece."

From the look on Colin's face, she wondered fleetingly who he would rather face: an angry Tom or an overprotective Joe.

She'd place her bets on the former.

With a small smile, Freya turned on her heel and left, calling over her shoulder, "See you later, Mer-Colin."

The words appeared to echo into solitude the moment they left her lips. Joe had closed the bedroom door, separating her from the warlock, and she stared after him with an aggravated expression. She knew Colin would receive a firm tongue lashing, and honestly, she couldn't bring herself to care. It reminded her that this was her reality now; she wasn't in Camelot anymore. She remembered how easy their relationship had been when she had been trapped in the tunnels, cursed and alone, relying on the kind boy whose smile brightened the darkest corners of her heart. The one who made her feel loved, and in return, she would have done anything for. The one who kissed her when he barely even knew her, healing the pain she suffered because of her loneliness. The one who made her hope for the first time in her life. The one who promised more than fate would allow.

The one who was right in front of her yet had never felt so far away.

The realization caused her to quicken her pace, and when she made it to her room, she shut the door softly behind her before sliding down the wall, hands grasping her hair. "Merlin," Freya whispered to herself, her voice filled with anguish as the emotions she had tried so hard to keep locked away for the past few weeks made their way to the surface, away from their residence in her broken yet hopeful heart.

The waves of emotion began to flood the deepest parts of her body as the shadows of hope were filled with the clear liquid and cleansed of all ignorance. This turn of events changed everything. It was so quick that if one blinked, they would miss it. Her mind began to race a million miles per second to process her new outlook, the one that had just developed in the short span of time. For the hope she had harnessed had now been replaced with doubt. For the undying love had now been replaced with the idea he might not love her as much as she loved him. The denial had now been replaced with acceptance. The thought that Colin might never remember who she was and how he felt towards her scared her deeply.

Her life had grown into a tangled web of anger and depression.

Now - piece by piece, string by string, note by note - everything was cleared to create a certain and clear pathway through the mixture of emotions she had hidden away. Everything was crystal-clear, sharp, defined.

What if there was a chance Colin might never remember who she was, who he was? What if he never remembered how he felt towards her?

The thought scared her more than she could admit.

* * *

Richard was dying.

If only he had foreseen how difficult of a journey he had begun when he welcomed the young and terrified boy, the broken and injured _Colin_ into his home, an event that now seemed like a distant memory in his past, he would have gladly spent one more moment there just to get a grip on reality. All he would have asked was that he would be granted the time to stop and think through how he would approach the situation. It was turning out to be impossible to accomplish the simple task of returning the lost one home and piecing together the shambles of his shattered life. If he could go back and prevent Colin from running away, perhaps Richard could have saved him earlier. All he wanted was to go back in time and change everything.

Even then, it still wouldn't have been an easy thing to do.

Sadness struck Gaius even in the most hopeful of times. He was on his way to getting Colin back in his life, but he guessed after everything he had been through over the past few years had taught him that one could never truly be happy without a dark spot on their bright heart. Sadness was programmed into the human race, Gaius proposed. Grief and sadness were just emotions that existed in everyone, in some more than others. The truth about sadness, however, was that it was always real. Sadness was hard to feign. The tears that were shed were truth, the salt-water droplets purely genuine.

If the sadness he showed to the social worker was anything to go by, she would have no reason to doubt his intentions. He just wanted his boy back, _his boy_ – the same one that had crawled through the window, running back to the man who terrified him, leaving him alone and hurt.

The weeks and days had passed on since he first lost Colin, since he first called Uther. The tears were shed, and he had many heated, one-side arguments with fate for sentencing the poor boy to a life such as this. In whatever life Colin was forced to live, Gaius realized, there would always be the mountains he would have to climb.

There had to be a real reason as to fate liked to test Colin. It seemed that he was always either helping other people or trying to survive another day in the chaotic order his life had turned out to be. Gaius invested his entire being into loving Colin, and ever since he discovered the teenager was alive, he had never lost faith that he would return to his care once more. He wished Colin knew he was trying to rescue him, and even if he was seventeen years late, he was still there. He wanted to promise Colin not to give up, that he didn't have to be alone anymore, and that everything would be alright someday.

Somewhere, deep down, Gaius hoped that Colin knew.

He just had to have faith.

Faith was an up and down journey. It was necessary in a situation where all were still alive but barely breathing. Where everyone witnessed their mistakes and past regrets; where they felt the happiness they shared with others and the failures they committed upon others and themselves. The fears they were never able to face and the memories they were willing to remember. Faith. A simple word, right? Full of failures and accomplishments; full of happiness and despair; from the first tear one sheds and every tear one would ever cry. Faith was something that had people saying that one must go on with life as best as they could in whatever condition they were in at any given time. Faith was able to heal all wounds. Faith moved mountains.

This, Gaius knew, was the mountain he needed to move. He needed to gain custody of Colin.

It had been six weeks since he last saw the foster boy and called Uther. The lawyer had jumped on the first plane to New York and began to work on the case straight away. Uther had attempted to search into Tom's background, looking for any signs of reported abuse or any other criminal activity; however, Gaius's hope was squashed when the hunt revealed no traces of any unlawful behavior. While they couldn't prosecute Tom on Gaius's confession alone, Gaius set out to pursue the goal of adopting Colin which would pull him from Tom's care. It caused Uther to schedule a meeting with Colin's case worker, Sarah. It was then, Gaius remembered, when everything changed. The moment Sarah – better known in Camelot as the Lady Catrina – stepped through the door, greeting Uther with little more than a nod of the head, caused the hope to blossom even more.

Sarah had entered the conference room, a thick folder in her arms, her brown eyes narrowed in concentration. She set it down before resting her hands on the table in front of her, shifting her weight forward. "Mr. Tony James, I presume?" she asked, stretching her hand in Uther's general direction.

Uther remained flabbergasted at her appearance, and Gaius chalked it up to the fact that the last time he had laid eyes upon the Lady Catrina, she had been a troll's costume to destroy him. "I…"

Sarah huffed rather loudly, retracting her arm before seating herself across from the two men. "Listen, I… When you contacted me about Colin, I knew I needed to meet with you… I've… I've been on Colin's case since I first started my career and it hasn't been easy for him." She turned to Gaius, her expression pleading him earnestly to help her. "He needs someone, and I've been trying to get him away from Tom, but it's been hard to when I have no evidence to back up my claims-"

"You think his foster father's abusive as well?" Uther asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Sarah retorted, crossing her arms as she locked an icy glare on the lawyer, "I _know_ he's abusive." Silence settled upon the occupants of the room, and Sarah felt the need to elaborate. "I first suspected Tom of abuse when Colin ran away back in January. He… He had a dislocated shoulder, and there were bruises around his neck. He said that he had joined a gang of some sort, and things turned ugly when a drug operation went wrong."

"He didn't," Gaius clarified, clenching his hands into fists. "I treated him for his shoulder. He had two broken ribs as well."

Sarah's eyes widened and she turned to face Uther. "You didn't tell me about this over the phone."

Uther shrugged helplessly as Sarah gestured for Gaius to continue. "I found him behind my clinic last month. He was badly beaten, so I took him inside and treated him. He had numerous lacerations and contusions, a dislocated shoulder, two broken ribs, and a fractured wrist. He stayed with me for a day, and when I woke up the next morning, he was gone."

Gaius sighed to himself, just sitting there, his thoughts drifting a few weeks back. He remembered Colin's delirious state as he limped into the room, collapsing onto the bed in obvious agony. He promptly passed out, and Gaius sent out to heal him, staring at _his_ boy's wounded figure as he worked. The once brilliant clothing adjourning Colin's frail body was dull and tattered, tainted red with blood. His face was marred with splotches of blue and purple. His dark hair was stained with blood and filth, and when he finally opened his once vibrant, blue eyes, they were pained, reflecting all the hardships he had to endure in his young life. Gaius had looked away, saddened to note the defeated state of his old ward.

Sarah sighed to herself, gathering her strength before opening the folder. "This is Colin's case file. He's been with about a dozen foster families. Each and every one sent him back as soon as possible." Gaius knew why they sent him back; the fact that people rejected the young boy's magic pulled at his heartstrings. "He's been through _so much_ already, Mr. Wilson," Sarah said, looking the older man dead in the eyes, "And I will not tolerate you putting him through anymore."

"I can guarantee you that I only want what's best for him," Gaius reassured her.

Sarah nodded, her gaze flickering to Uther as he reached for the folder, leafing through the files. "If you are _serious_ about adopting him, I can't thank you enough. He needs someone… Anyone who can look out for him…" She trailed off, swallowing a lump in her throat. It was obvious she cared for her charge, and Gaius couldn't thank her enough.

It was evident Colin _did_ have someone in his life watching out for him.

"…First things first," Sarah announced before Uther cut her off.

"Cenred!" he cried out, raising a paper to eye level, staring at the picture in shock.

Gaius glanced over the ex-royal's shoulder, his heart thundering away in his chest as he gazed at the photograph in his lawyer's hand. The dark eyes glared back, glinting with malice, as he stood beside Colin in the picture. Gaius's heart had jumped into his throat. There was no denying what the picture foretold. Tom was King Cenred of Essetir, Colin's abusive foster father.

"Cenred?" Sarah questioned in confusion.

Uther fumbled for an excuse. "It's German… It means 'my God' or something."

"Oh? Ich bin nicht dumm. Ich kann Deutsch. Sie tun es nicht." Sarah sent him a smug smile, tilting her head to the side. Uther's mouth dropped open, and he turned towards his old friend, searching for some aid, but when Gaius offered none, he shrugged helplessly. The social worker laughed. "It's alright. I lived in Germany for fifteen years." Uther managed a sheepish smile.

Gaius assumed he'd be attending their wedding in a few months.

Sarah cocked her head with a sharp smirk, and Uther resigned himself to a sheepish grin. A silence descended upon the trio, but Gaius cleared his throat, catching the social worker's attention. The rising panic throbbed through Gaius's veins, and he turned back to the situation at hand. "What's the process to adopt him?"

Sarah cleared her throat, ruffling through the file, and pulled out a few forms. "First off, you need to be approved as an adoptive parent. A house study will need to be done on your living environments-"

"Will it matter," Uther interjected, "If he was already a foster parent?"

Sarah cast him a perplexed look, asking him to elaborate. "After my wife passed away, I had a child live with me for a few years before he turned eighteen…" Gaius paused, biting his trembling, lower lip as he was reminded of Alice. Her warm almond eyes, silk hair, and the cinnamon fragrance that followed her wherever she went. "…If I'm already registered in the system, could it speed the adoption process?"

Sarah clasped her hands together in front of her on the table, her eyes cast downwards. "Regardless of that fact, I can work on transferring custody of Colin to you, but I've been trying to do so for the past month so long as I got him out of Tom's care, but it hasn't gone anywhere. It's a long process, Mr. Wilson, but it would certainly be shorter."

"If I become his foster parent," Gaius said, "Would I be clear to adopt him straight away?"

Sarah shook her head. "You would need to fill out a Declaration of Interest in Adopting first of all as well as…" She heaved a sigh and groaned, resting her head in her hands. "Colin needs to be legally free for adoption."

"I thought the courts declared him free when he was abandoned." Uther leaned forward. "They terminated his birth parents' rights to-"

"There was a fire," Sarah confessed as a short beat of silence, "About eight months ago in the court house. Colin's court records were lost – they were the only copies. We'd need a judge to reevaluate his standing, and even then, it might take a while since Colin will be eighteen this year."

"No," Gaius pressed, devotion adjourning his face, "I want custody of him. I want _my boy_ back. I won't wait! _I need him back_!"

Sarah was taken back. "Your boy…? You know him?"

"I knew his mother," Gaius admitted softly, like a whisper in the howling winds of a raging storm. "She came to me after she gave birth to him." His voice broke as the dam around his sadness he had built received the final blow, tears pooling in his eyes at the memory. "She told me he was dead… _That she had thrown his body into the ocean!"_

Stillness settled around the trio in the conference room, and Gaius held his breath, internally berating himself for causing the scene. His exasperation for the situation was leaking out of him in heavy intervals, stealing away his right to even think. All he wanted was Colin – _Merlin_ – home, safe and sound, under his roof like he was supposed to be.

"You know," Sarah began, and Gaius raised his panic-stricken gaze to hers, "If we can find his mother… We could convince her to surrender her parental rights as the birth parent… If his father isn't around anymore…"

"He's dead."

"Then… If we can find Colin's mother, you can adopt him, Richard."

The first tear fell.

* * *

That night, Gaius dreamed of his ward, back when he wore his tattered neckerchiefs and brown leather jacket. He was sitting on the old, wooden bench which creaked as he shifted his weight. The court physician was seated across from him, smiling fondly over a plate of stew. The boy laughed, a sound that filled Gaius with happiness, and grinned brightly.

Gaius rolled his eyes. "_One day, people won't believe what an idiot you were_."

Merlin chuckled. "_Thanks_."

The scene transformed in a mix of blurred colors and emotions until Gaius's voice fell over it. "_I remember the bumbling idiot that came charging into my chambers all those years ago. Who would believe_?"

It was how it was supposed to be.

* * *

Arthur was lost.

He stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom, his shirt tossed carelessly on the floor. The blistery air from the winter environment chilled him to the bones, but he refused to break his reverie. His azure eyes flickered to his side where, a thousand years before, he had been bleeding out from a fatal wound. If he had survived, Arthur reckoned, a scar would have existed. Now his unblemished skin stood out with a mysterious glow in the shadowy light of the night. He sighed to himself, and though no one was in the room to hear him, he wished he had someone to talk his thoughts out with.

A phantom slash of pain overtook his body as Arthur unconsciously shivered. He ran a trembling hand through his sweat-tangled golden locks; he clutched his stomach half heartedly. He had never needed Merlin more than this moment. Something was telling him that everything was about to change, and he didn't know how to handle it all.

"Arthur?" a voice asked cautiously as the door that Arthur had closed opened ever so slightly. Gwen's head of curly hair was visible as she studied her fiancé. "Arthur, do you know… Are you okay?"

"I don't know," he responded quietly as he stood dejectedly against the wall, the cold surface causing tremors to run down his spine. "I… I just don't know anymore."

"Are you thinking about Merlin again?" Gwen asked with a shy smile. It had been a month since the two returned from their visit with her parents, and neither had made any progress in finding their lost friend – or any others from their past lives for that matter. "I know-"

"No, you don't," he said, his voice choked. Gwen, after years of experience, knew immediately what the problem was. She seated herself on the edge of Arthur's bed as the nineteen-year-old slipped into his white t-shirt. "You don't know what it's like… To feel like half of you is missing."

"I know Merlin means a lot to you," she murmured quietly as he perched beside her. "There's nothing wrong with missing him… Morgana is getting closer. We'll find him, Arthur, I know we will."

"_No, you don't."_ The second time was more forceful.

"_We will_," Gwen said as she stood up. "You're not the only one who misses him, you know." She scrubbed the tears from her eyes as she stared at Arthur. "It's alright to miss him. It's alright to, Arthur."

He looked as if he were to protest her statement, so lost and alone in the world. Wherever Merlin was, Gwen wished that he would hurry and come back to them. For her sake – for Arthur's sake, and for Morgana's. The three of them had spent the past two months in search of him, and to come up empty handed every moment cut them all down a little bit more each time.

Perhaps that's what they needed, Gwen guessed, more time.

For the past sixty days, time had been inadequate. It had meant nothing. Time had been a barrier. Time had passed, Gwen knew it passed, but she had never felt it pass. It was if she had been watching the world change and grow, sentencing to do nothing to manipulate it. She could feel her wounds of the past thousand years healing and reopening. Most likely, she knew, that was how Arthur felt. Their scars would seal over countless times, but they would bleed time and time again with each memory they relieved.

All they could do was merely watch the time pass until Merlin found them. They couldn't just freeze time and hope to find him; they had to live in it as well.

Because, Gwen knew, if you never let time pass, your wounds would never heal.


	10. To Kill The Lady

**Welcome** to the next chapter of TFR!

First off, I need to thank all the people over at the **Heart of Camelot** (go over to that; it's a Merlin website for all us writers and fans and graphic makers; it's amazing and I love it). They put up with my ramblings in the chatroom and my occasional plotbunnies. Thanks to them, I have 3 upcoming story ideas which you can find at the **end of this AN** (I am so sorry this is so long!)

Secondly, I was reminded of how my **beginning chapters** have all those mistakes in them and everything, so starting now, I am slowly going through them and fixing the main grammar/spelling mistakes. I never proofread, and I'm sorry about that. Luckily, I have a beta now, and even when I proofread, it's always late at night when I do it, so I apologize whole heartedly for that!

Thank you to my beta **CaptainOzone**. She's the best beta ever! She was awarded the Outstanding Beta Award :)

**In this chapter,** Tom is Cenrad. Colin is Merlin. Joe is Will. Richard is Gaius. Laura is Freya. Georgia is Vivian. Katie is Morgana. Angel is Gwen. Bradley is Arthur. And surprise!character is surprise!character :D

Remember to check my website **whenthestormisthrough** which is my **TUMBLR url**. I post chapter updates and some excerpts as well as all things Merlin on there.

Enjoy the chapter, and please review. I like to hear what you thought of the chapter, what you didn't like, any questions or concerns, your favorite parts, and any suggestions/comments about my writing in general.

Onto the chapter,

**Erin**

**{Recommended Reading: What Happens by carinims01. I love that story, and the sequel is amazing. Also, I want to thank her for promoting this story on her Merlin page. It made my day, and hopefully, this will repay her 3}**

* * *

**After** TFR, I have 3 story ideas that I will possibly write next. You guys can vote on whichever one you would like to see. I'm still trying to figure out how to set up a poll on my profile, so until I do, you're free to leave a note in a PM or review telling me which one you'd like to see, or you can check on my profile and see if I put the poll up if I find out how to do so.

**Arthur's Bane - **in which Merlin is Arthur's bane, prophecized to be the one to kill the king he's sworn to protect.  
**Once and Future** - in which Sefa is the serving girl to Queen Guinevere; she has magic and is destined to protect the Queen, but she doesn't know Merlin's duty as Emrys.  
**One More Miracle** - in which, at the end of Season 4, Agravaine kidnaps Merlin and brings him to Morgana when the servant tries to warn Arthur of his uncle's betrayal. Morgana gives Agravaine a potion to make him look like Merlin and convince the king that his friend is the traitor (follows Season 4 finale; AU end to 4x11, 4x12, 4x13)

* * *

**WARNING: mentions of child abuse, graphic violence/murder scene**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

_"You know I'd fall apart without you,  
__I don't know how you do what you do.  
__'Cause everything that don't make sense about me,  
__Makes sense when I'm with you."  
__- Wanted by Hunter Hayes_

* * *

Colin didn't know anything except for the pain.

He bit his lip in an effort to fight against the searing agony and the urge to scream out with the voice that had already been strained to its limit that night. The taste of metallic blood going down his throat as he choked down a sob sent his stomach spiraling with nausea. Each kick to his chest forced him forward, and he found himself fighting to escape his foster father's wrath. Each time, Tom chuckled darkly at the pain he was intentionally inflicting upon Colin while the boy struggled to hold in his cries.

"I told you to go along with it!" his foster father yelled above Colin's blood-stained figure. "I told you to use your magic!"

Tom seemed to think it was simple for Colin: obey or witness more pain. Though his drunken mind severely limited his thought process, the older man knew his foster son couldn't handle much more of the torture he was sentencing him to. Colin had positioned himself so that his injured shoulder was protected, his exposed back bearing the brunt of the attacks. Eight months in Tom's care had taught him a lot, and he had more strength that he could muster if necessary.

"Do you want me to hurt them?" Tom whispered in a sugar, sweet voice, "Because I will. Make me. I dare you.".

In between his gasps for breath, Colin rolled away from his foster father, "You stay away from them!" His cry bounced off the walls of the apartment, and though he was trying to keep Laura and Joe from witnessing the ordeal, he knew they had awoken the moment Tom had stumbled into his room, dragging him out of bed with one purpose.

He had found a use for Colin's magic.

Colin struggled to find a way out of Tom's grasp, but the older man flipped him onto his stomach, applying pressure to the boy's upper back. The action caused pain to mount on Colin's ribs, and he cried out once more. The cruel drunk above him chuckled, cutting the air with an icy edge.

"I can bring sweet Laura in here. I'm sure she—"

_"Leave her alone!_" Colin screamed, his cobalt eyes glazed over in pain. "Y-You… This… _This has nothing to do with her!"_

Tom grabbed his upper arm and threw him against the wall; Colin bit his lip to hold back the howl of pain. His drunken slurs were running through one ear and out the other, and Colin found it harder than ever before to understand him. He tried to shake Tom's hand off, but he was slowly losing strength, shaking slightly from his injuries. His head was throbbing; his heart was pounding. His world was spinning, and vertigo crashed over him.

Colin wanted it to end.

The warlock raised his head as he heard a door open, and a disheveled Joe stumbled out of their shared room. Tom was oblivious to the younger boy's presence, too busy grabbing at Colin's white, blood-stained t-shirt and attempting to shake some sense into him. Colin cried out in protest only to be roughly backhanded across his face. He felt the blood rush to his cheek, clotting to form a bruise sooner or later. This was an entirely new concept, and if Tom weren't drunk, he wouldn't have done such a thing. He had to hide his true nature; bruises on his ward's face wouldn't help his case.

The new bruise began to throb harshly, but Colin ignored it, his eyes flashing to Joe's rigid form. He tried to signal for the other boy to flee, turn back to his room or perhaps join Laura in hers. Tom wouldn't touch them; Colin wouldn't let him. Joe didn't catch Colin's indication, merely narrowing his blue eyes in began to fidget. Tom couldn't know Joe was watching, or he'd turn around and inflict the same punishment on the bystander.

A blur ran past Colin's vision, and his foster father's weight disappeared above him. He was startled to see Joe hovering over his still figure, Tom unconscious against the couch. Colin tried to regulate his breathing. Pain radiated through his body; fear was all he felt. He blinked back tears; it would be no use to let them loose. Tears that fell meant nothing at all for they came far too frequently. Colin learned long ago that he had to be strong; tears wouldn't help his situation.

Joe stretched out a hand to aid his foster brother, raising him off the ground and onto shaky legs. After the entire ordeal, all it had taken was one shove and Tom had come undone. It wouldn't have happened if he hadn't been drinking, Colin knew, but he was grateful all the same. He turned to thank Joe, but the younger boy held up a hand for quiet. Silence settled in, and Joe's eyes fluttered shut as he let out a small sigh. For as long as he had known Joe, Colin could read him like an open book even when he tried so hard to keep his emotions in check. However, now, in the midst of the pain and confusion, Colin could not detect any real emotions from Joe's stoic face. Passivity radiated off of the seemingly paralyzed teenager in front of him.

Suddenly, Joe grabbed his hand, pulling Colin's trembling form back to their bedroom. Colin sighed, preparing himself to return to his soft blankets and warm bed. He entered the room and made a move towards his bed, but Joe held up a hand in protest. Much to Colin's amazement, Joe gestured to the window on the far wall.

"You need to get out of here," Joe said, his voice low and controlled. "Laura and I'll be fine here for a few days. You need to get help."

"I'm not going to the police," Colin protested.

"I know that, you idiot," Joe sneered, a sincere smile adjourning his face, "But I don't want you up to your old tricks, Colin. You can take him throwing you around sometimes, but you're injured. Go to that Richard guy you told me about. He'll help you."

_"You still up to the same old magic tricks again?"_

Paying no attention to the voice and chalking it up to the late hour, Colin resigned himself to a longing stare out the window at the city. "I ran away when he tried to help. There's no guarantee that he'll do it again."

"Colin—"

"No, you don't understand," the warlock continued. "If Tom finds out, he'll kill him."

Joe shook his head, placing a strong hand on Colin's shoulder. "No, he won't. He doesn't know about Richard."

"Then Santiago—"

_"He doesn't even know where Santiago lives."_

"But—"

"You're impossible, I hope you know that."

Joe pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. Colin wondered if the argument was physically straining him. "You need help, Colin. You need a doctor. When he wakes up, he'll go after you. As long as you're back by morning, it'll be fine. I can take care of Laura and myself for a few days; I did it for six years. Just… Have Richard look you over and everything and then come straight home."

"Richard might not even want to help me."

"You won't know 'til you try," Joe said, handing his foster brother a heavy jacket along with a hat and a pair of gloves. "Now, go before I throw you out."

Colin chuckled. "Why would you do that?"

"I don't want your kind here to be a bad influence on my sister."

_"Look, I thought I told you I didn't want your kind around here?"_

Shaking his head at the distant memory that tugged at the corner of his mind, Colin faced Joe with a mocking grin. "And what kind of people would that be?" Colin retorted in good jest.

_"Stubborn asses._"

"You'd know, wouldn't you?"

Joe made a move to swat the back of Colin's head, but the older boy ducked out of his range, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Get going."

Colin nodded, his expression turning serious. "You sure you'll be alright alone?"

"We'll manage. We'll survive." Joe gave him a light shove, placing a strong hand on an uninjured area of Colin's back. "Just get help then come back."

Colin cast his foster brother a tight smile, grateful for once that he wasn't alone in his fight to protect everyone else. He waited with baited breath to be sure that Tom wasn't moving around in the next room before dashing across the hall, finding his winter coat hanging behind the front door. He entered his room once more and made a beeline for the window that Joe had already opened. The warlock swung his legs into the frigid, night air, straddling the windowsill as he turned back to Joe, sending him a nod of thanks, and climbed down the fire escape with ease.

When he finally hit the ground, he limped away from the apartment building as quickly as possible, the shivers racing down his spine, the blistery air making his breaths come out in clouds. He was mindful of his injuries though and had only one place in mind. He was returning to Richard's clinic, hoping the offer of help was still valid. This marked a new chapter in Colin's life for it was the first time he was reaching out to someone on his own accord.

Back in the apartment, Joe watched Colin disappear behind a building, ducking into an alleyway in order to keep away from prying eyes. The teenager sighed to himself and exited the room, intent on keeping watch on Laura throughout the night. Before he left, however, he turned back the window where a gentle breeze caressed his face.

_"Come home soon, Merlin_," Will whispered and shut the window.

* * *

Colin needed to stop passing out.

Blinking blearily to clear the exhaustion from his cobalt eyes, he clenched them closed once more before he fully released himself to reality. When he finally regained his bearings from his slumber, he stared dizzily ahead, barely recognizing anything at all even after he recuperated from his morning's confusion. Cobwebs tickled his mind, a vast amount of nothingness filling it. It took a short beat of time before he realized he was nestled under a mound of blankets, warmth reaching deep within his bones.

He turned his head to the side, expecting to find Joe's slumbering form sprawled out on the opposite bed, but he met the concerned eyes of Richard Wilson instead. The doctor's gray eyes narrowed, and Colin's heart beat faster, matching the speed of a hummingbird's wings. The eyes softened when they realized that Colin was finally awake, and the apparent concern in them reminded Colin that there was a life of heaven beyond his prison of hell.

Colin noted the brightness of the room and deduced that it was sometime after dawn. It had been over a month and a half since he had last been in this room, and he was afraid to question the doctor about his last absence. After all, the kind man had reached out to help the warlock only to have him run away when he left the room.

In the two months since he had left though, things had changed.

Colin no longer found himself ducking into alleys, hiding from his foster father in the shadows of the city. He would now wander the streets, occasionally taking Laura out to Central Park when Tom was passed out drunk on the couch. They would often take walks when the night settled in and the temperatures hovered above freezing. Wrapped up in their coats, caps, and gloves, the duo would venture out into the world. They'd walk in the moonlight, beams of illumination streaming through the darkness, unearthing Earth's nocturnal creatures. On most days, a light snowfall was inevitable, providing the perfect atmosphere. However, it was clear spring was on its way by the way the icy ground became covered in slush, green buds already blooming on the trees. They would stay out for an hour or so, immersed in the dense cocoon of stillness that surrounded the city, just enjoying one another's company.

Colin enjoyed the time he spent with Laura. It made him, for the first time in his life, feel wholly_ human._

He was her protector, Colin realized, and as he turned his gaze back to Richard, he knew the doctor was his.

Richard smiled at him, and Colin's heart gave a sharp thud. His life was turning completely around. For seventeen years, he had been alone, deprived of the love and safety any other child received. He had always wished for some semblance of a typical childhood, but everyone turned him away when they discovered his magic. However, Richard _stayed._ He _welcomed_ it. He _accepted_ what made Colin so different, and that was what changed his entire world.

"We have to stop meeting like this," Richard said quietly, managing a small smile in face of the serious situation.

Colin gave a small chuckle, his ribs throbbing in protest. Immediately, though, he sobered and bit his lip in hesitation. "I'm… I'm sorry I left. You were trying to help and I—"

"Don't worry about it," Richard said, a warm smile gracing his face. "You need to rest right now. You're sick."

Closing his eyes, Colin took a deep breath before opening them and turning to face the doctor. He blew it out slowly, nestling himself deeper beneath the blankets. A phantom chill nipped at his limbs, shivers rocketing down his spine. He clenched the comforter in his fist, knuckles white from the sheer pressure he applied. He was shaking slightly – from either the air or a setting illness, one couldn't be sure.

"'M sorry for bothering you," he said, ducking his head in shame. "I didn't mean to just show up—"

Richard lowered his gaze and reached out his hand, clasping Colin's shoulder tightly. "It doesn't matter."

"But—"

"I said_ it doesn't matter._ All that does is that you're safe now."

Colin snuggled deeper into his nest, the bitter action causing pain to flare in his aching body. "I needed to leave," he elaborated, ducking his head into his shoulder in shame. "Tom would've hurt other people – like you or Santiago. I… I couldn't let him do that. I couldn't let you _die._"

Richard brushed Colin's dark hair from his forehead, trying to calm him. "You were only trying to protect me. I understand, Colin."

Colin nodded slightly, and Richard knew that he was experiencing waves of regret and guilt as time passed. "I thought you'd be angry with me."

"No," he whispered lowly, "I was merely worried – up until the moment you walked through that door."

There was a short beat of silence before Richard realized that Colin did not completely believe him. He knew that it wasn't fair to expect the warlock to trust him after years of being abandoned by the ones who were supposed to care for him the moment discovered his magic. The instinct to doubt was so deeply embedded in the foster boy's core that it would be a blessing in itself for him to open up and put his heart on the line one more time.

Wanting to offer him some form of comfort, Richard smiled widely and reached for something lying next to Colin's bed. The warlock raised his head in question, cocking it as he saw the magic book Richard had introduced him too the first day he met the doctor. With trembling hands, Richard opened the book to a random page, searching it for a specific content, his smile brightening.

"Here," he said, placing the book in Colin's lap.

The teenager struggled to sit up, pain shooting down his spine. When he was finally seated upright, he narrowed his eyes in concentration, studying the page closely. "Is… Is this a _spell_?"

Richard nodded. "You have power, Colin; there's no denying it. Your only problem is learning how to control it."

"And use it for good?" Colin proposed, hesitant as if expecting a negative answer.

"Of course," Richard answered and perched himself on the edge of Colin's bed. "Can… Can you read the language?"

Colin raised his eyebrow in confusion, casting Richard a quizzical expression. "I… I think so. It's… It's…"

"Familiar?" Richard asked.

Colin shuffled close to the edge of the bed. "How… How do I know this language if I've never even seen it before?" He waited patiently for Richard's response, knowing that the doctor was merely distracting him from the guilt overriding his mind. He couldn't have been more grateful.

"It is the tongue of the Old Religion; all sorcerers are born with the Old Religion as a part of them," Richard explained, placing a hand across Colin's chest, feeling the boy's heart pounding against his frail ribcage. "You see, Colin, you were_ born_ with magic. You are as much of a creature of the Old Religion as the dragons were."

Colin's eyes clouded over with pain. "So, you mean… I really am a monster?"

Richard looked taken back. "No, of course not!_ Don't ever think that_. You are human, Colin, more human than most people I've met. You are special, and that is something to be_ proud_ of."

Colin resigned himself back to the magic book, eyes flickering across the page. "So… Do I just say it?" At Richard nod, Colin held his hand out, palm up, and extended his fingers to their limit. He could feel the magic tingling the surface of his skin, so he took a deep breath and whispered in a strong voice, _"Forbærnen."_

A single flame erupted in his hand, and Colin nearly fell off the bed in surprise. He could feel its warmth; it felt safe and protected. Richard smiled with pride as he watched the young warlock inspect his first magical experiment, Colin's look of awe filling every shadow of fear he had held.

Suddenly, Colin's eyes became glassy with unshed tears as he reigned in his magic, feeling the flame slip back into his core. He was trembling – from excitement or exhaustion, he wasn't sure – but he knew that what he had just witnessed had changed his entire outlook in life.

The possibility that he was_ human_. The possibility that he could live a _normal_ life. The possibility that someone _cared_ for him…

"Colin?" Richard questioned softly, "Are you alright?"

Colin merely nodded as a reply, and suddenly, the doctor engulfed the foster boy into his arms. Colin felt the tears slipping unhindered down his cheeks, and he refused to hold them in. He wondered if this was what family felt like. Here, in Richard's embrace, all his pain, suffering, torture, and lies never mattered. No matter what he had had to go through in the past mattered to be able to feel like he was truly worth something for the first time in his life.

It showed him that, against all odds, he had survived all of the chaos life had thrown his way.

In Richard's arms, Colin had found a home. It was a place that he had never known, created to be where he truly belonged. He had been searching for such a place for so long, and now, to finally find it caused him greater joy than ever before.

He never wanted to leave.

After a while, Richard withdrew from the embrace and placed his hands on Colin's shoulders. He stared at the warlock long and hard before sighing. "I'm trying to gain custody of you, Colin."

While it was unusual for Colin to cry, it was such a raw feeling he was experiencing that it caused him to gently sob, his tears cascading in rivets. This moment was so truly and completely unbelievable. Even now, disbelief was etched across his face, and Richard merely chuckled. He'd earn the boy's trust soon enough, and he knew today was an important step in assuring so.

"Thank you…_ Oh God, thank you,_" Colin whispered lowly when a sudden thought struck him. "Wait… Richard, they… Laura and Joe… They… _You have to help them too!"_

"Don't worry," Richard answered with a warm smile. "I'll take care of everyone. You don't have to protect them all your own, Colin. I'll help now. I'll take care of you."

Indeed, Colin realized, he may have just found his first home – his family.

* * *

Her heart jerked in her chest.

_"Leave me alone!"_

Her footsteps reverberated off of the alley walls, mixing with her pleas for help and protests towards her attacker. Her high, soprano voice rang out through the night, twisting like a symphony of melancholy music. There seemed to be no end to the shadows that followed her, shadows that only grew larger and darker as time went on.

Her pursuer chuckled darkly, but she couldn't pinpoint his or her exact location. "_Weak… Spineless_… To think that you were once _royalty."_

Something hard collided with her face, sending her sprawling out across the cement; she scraped her palms, having lost her gloves somewhere in the chase. A beam of moonlight surrounded her, the only thing visible at the end of the alley. Black dots danced across her vision, and she propped herself up on trembling hands and knees.

"What's the matter, Princess? I thought you'd like to play a little game."

Her attacker skittered along the walls of the alleyway, keeping to the shadows. The girl sobbed helplessly, fear crawling up he throat. "Please… _Please!_ I…_ I don't understand!_ I'm not a Princess!"

"Are you sure, Vivian?"

She felt the man's hot breath against her cheek, and she whirled around only to watch him retreat from her view. "I don't understand!" she wailed, wriggling away from his general direction. "My name's Georgia! _I'm Georgia! I'm not Vivian_! You've got the wrong person!"

She stood up, employing the use of her legs, but her attacker lunged forward, tackling her back to the ground. Her body felt like rubber, putty in his hands. She could taste blood on the tip of her tongue, and she wished he would have his way with her and just let her go. She wanted to go home. She'd comply with whatever he asked of her if it meant she could return to her apartment and live just one more day.

A hand caressed the side of her face, a finger tracing her cheek. "You're so beautiful, Vivian."

She merely sobbed in reply. Georgia could barely think straight. She just wanted it all to end. After a few moments, she opened her eyes to spot her attacker standing above her. She squinted against the movement, watching another figure approach the man. It was a woman. Georgia raised her gaze to meet the woman's piercing brown orbs, determination and defiance glittering behind them. The golden-blonde hair cascaded in tight ringlets down her back, the bangs pulled back, out of her line of vision, so that it would not disrupt her combat abilities. She wore brown boots, pants, and a tight-fitting purple shirt. A midnight black cloak was wrapped around her shoulder, and it hovered above the floor, swishing in the light breeze.

"Very good, Cenred," the woman purred. The girl bit her lip as the woman approached, ducking her head from view. "Don't i_gnor_e me, My Lady. Savor the world while you can before I take you out of it."

"W-What?" she managed, gasping out through her sobs. "Why're you—?"

_"Agan mé bealucræft!_" the woman chanted, stretching her hand towards Georgia's figure.

Georgia's breath caught in her throat, and she felt her heart thunder to a stop. She gasped for air, her shoulders heaving forward as she tried to draw in oxygen, but she was quickly dying. The woman's eyes glowed a molten gold, and if she could cry, Georgia would. A soft ringing filled her head, and she could feel her world slipping away as she faded after it. Before she was all but gone, Cenred stepped forward, a malevolent glint in his brown eyes, and raised a knife.

There was a flash of silver, moonlight bouncing off the blade, before the cold metal came in contact with Georgia's skin.

It sliced across her neck without hindrance, blood spilling from the deep throat. Georgia was drowning, and her heartbeat faltered before falling silent. Stillness descended upon the trio, and a yellow mist appeared to seep from the dead teenager's body, rushing through the air and into the woman's outstretched hand.

She breathed deeply, her eyes glowing brighter before dimming. She chuckled at the increase of power flooding through her veins; killing Georgia had rewarded her with more magic. "Emrys," she mused, smirking sharply, "Your magic is quite powerful."

"We'd better leave, Morgause," Cenred advised, casting a worried look over his shoulder. "The police could come any second. She was screaming pretty loud."

The witch nodded, smiling brightly. "You're right, Cenred. You're dismissed. Return home and keep watch over Emrys. We're closer now more than ever. Only a few more lives and we can begin our attack."

"How many more are there?" Cenred inquired. "We've taken care of Caerleon, Annis, Vivian, and her father. How many more until we can defeat that sorcerer?"

Morgause chuckled darkly. _"Don't you understand yet, you idiot_?" Her eyes flashed wildly, and the old king felt his stomach lurch in fear. "Each and every person who had a hand in Emrys's destiny has returned. When he cast that spell, a little bit of his magic returned to this world in each one of us. His magic brought us back, and his magic keeps us here. By killing these people, I gain the power of the renowned Emrys, the power wasted on a worthless servant - the one who served a weak and spineless king."

"How long until you've got enough power to take the rest from him?"

Morgause turned on her heel and began to amble down the alleyway, Cenred following in suite. "Not nearly enough. These minor characters of legends aren't enough. The people who_ mattered_ to him, the people he was tied_ directly_ too… They're the ones we need to find. They're the ones who harness the _most_ of Emrys's magic…"

Her voice trailed off as she paused, mind searching to identify their next target. "I'll hit Elena in Jersey tomorrow. You keep watch over Emrys. Do _not_ let him out of your sight, Cenred, or you'll be the next on my list."

Without another word, Morgause strode away from the scene, her hair swinging with her movements, beginning the journey that Nimueh had laid out years before when she learned the truth of the great Emrys's last magic act.

It would all end soon.

* * *

Morgana couldn't see anything.

She was trapped in the darkness, pain flaring through her body as she twisted her body to spot some form of light. Her stomach clenched in panic when she realized that the silence and the stillness was disappearing, muted sounds heard in the distance, but she was still blind to her surroundings.

_"Join… Morgana… Kill… Mithian… Emrys…"_

Even in her confusion, Morgana knew that the identity of the speaker had once been close to her. She lacked the exact name, however, even though it had been years since she had heard it, the tone harnessed a strong familiarity. A part of her, the evil side she had hidden away since she first retrieved her memories, jumped at its sound; her heart lurched into her throat.

_"…Have killed Princess Elena… Nimueh… proud."_

The unknown voice was harsh and mocking, yet it had a thin undercurrent of silk that had once provided Morgana comfort in her darkest of time. At least, it had been that way up until the moment she found out the truth. The voice belonged to Morgause, her half-sister through her mother back in Camelot. The two had been united by magic, sharing the blood of the High Priestesses of the Old Religion. A wave of hurt crashed over Morgana, and she bit back a cry.

She had trusted Morgause. Her sister had been all she had.

She remembered all too well the pain at discovering the enchantment her sister had placed over her. It had turned the once beautiful and compassionate Lady into a vengeful witch, unable to rest until she had Arthur Pendragon's head on a platter and his blood staining her throne. Morgana knew, that if Morgause had not enchanted her, she would have forgiven Merlin for the poisoning and ultimately return to the "light side," coming home to Camelot and her father and Arthur and her friends. Sadly, it had taken true tears of remorse to break the enchantment, something only Mordred could break.

Knowing what it cost the boy, how it ended for her… It brought Morgana close to tears.

_"Keep Emrys close… Kill Laura… Lady of the Lake… First… Much power… the brother… Don't… Kill Laura."_

_"Of course, My Lady."_

_"Kill Laura. She…. Important to Emrys… Means the world… Death will kill him."_

Morgana let out a small cry, the sound cutting through her subconscious, and she opened her eyes. She bolted up in bed, running a hand through her sweat-tangled hair, trying to regain her bearings. The voice echoed on through her head, and she was barely aware of Arthur's hand on her shoulder, trying to pull her back into reality. Gwen's voice was frantic with panic, trying to offer some comfort to her friend.

"Merlin!" Morgana suddenly wailed, tears brimming in her eyes. The sound startled her roommate, but she disregarded their reactions. "Morgause knows where Merlin is! She's killing… _She's going to kill Laura!_"

"Who's Laura?" Arthur asked in a strained voice.

The world was on fast-forward for the Lady Morgana, and she only managed a few words before she fell unconscious, slumping backward into her brother's strong arms. _"Lady of the Lake… She's the Lady of the Lake. Need to save… Emrys." _


	11. Merlin's Bane

**Welcome** to the next chapter of TFR!

So this chapter came quick. I've written two chapters in the past three days; I'm on a roll, and I needed to post this chapter because it might be a while till I get the next one up. **I am sorry in advance for this chapter, and if you have any questions, I WILL ANSWER WHATEVER YOU ASK. Just make it aware if you DONT want spoilers**

Thank you to my beta **CaptainOzone**. The girl manages to get the chapter back with 12 hours of my sending it to her. It's amazing.

**In this chapter,** Tom is Cenred. Colin is Merlin. Laura is Freya. Joe is Will. Richard is Gaius. Emilie is Morgause. Santiago is Lancelot. Eoin is Gwaine. Tom is Percival.

Remember to check my website **whenthestormisthrough** which is my **TUMBLR url**. I post chapter updates and some excerpts as well as all things Merlin on there.

Enjoy the chapter, and please review. I like to hear what you thought of the chapter, what you didn't like, any questions or concerns, your favorite parts, and any suggestions/comments about my writing in general.

Onto the chapter,

**Erin**

**Recommended Reading: Intension by Ryne42.  
**

* * *

**After** TFR, I have 3 story ideas that I will possibly write next. You guys can vote on whichever one you would like to see. Check on my profile and see if I put the poll up if I find out how to do so.

**Arthur's Bane - **in which Merlin is Arthur's bane, prophecized to be the one to kill the king he's sworn to protect.  
**Once and Future** - in which Sefa is the serving girl to Queen Guinevere; she has magic and is destined to protect the Queen, but she doesn't know Merlin's duty as Emrys.  
**One More Miracle** - in which, at the end of Season 4, Agravaine kidnaps Merlin and brings him to Morgana when the servant tries to warn Arthur of his uncle's betrayal. Morgana gives Agravaine a potion to make him look like Merlin and convince the king that his friend is the traitor (follows Season 4 finale; AU end to 4x11, 4x12, 4x13)

* * *

**WARNING: child abuse, graphic violence, character death  
**

* * *

**Chapter Ten  
**_"And now I sit here on my own.  
And dream of a girl that I used to know.  
I can't take her off my eyes again,  
'cause she's my living addiction."  
-"Living Addiction" by Alex Goot_

* * *

Colin was a clumsy idiot.

Or at least that's what Joe thought.

Attempting to sneak back into Tom's apartment in the middle of the night wasn't the best idea the warlock ever had; however, when the nightmares featuring Laura and Joe as Tom's victims took over his every waking hour, Colin knew he had to return. Richard understood, of course, but before Colin had a foot out the door, the doctor made him promise to return on a regular basis. Colin would continue to study and learn to control his magic, and Richard would keep him updated on the custody battle for his guardianship.

Night had settled over New York City, and the dense cocoon of stillness stalked the warlock like a ghost. He pulled the winter jacket closer to his body to conserve body heat, pulling the stocking cap further down his head to cover his ears. Richard had been kind enough to gift him with new winter clothes, even though the season was coming to a close in a few weeks. The gesture was well-appreciated, but it was gauche to receive such offerings from someone who barely knew you.

For some odd reason, though, to Colin, it seemed as if he had known Richard forever. He hoped that the doctor would settle his custody case soon so that he could live with him. Whenever he was with the older man, he felt as if he had found his family, and he never wanted that feeling to end. After the two days Colin had spent in his care, Richard was quickly becoming the father he had never had.

His bubble of joy burst in his chest, however, when he approached the apartment door after climbing three flights of stairs, the happiness dissipating at the knowledge he'd have to spend more time with Tom before he could be transferred anywhere.

He ambled across the apartment with the utmost care, hoping to return to his bedroom without pulling anyone from their slumber. His footsteps were relatively quiet up until his elbow brushed a pile of books perched on the wooden table near the entrance of the hallway. Colin scrambled to clean the mess when the light suddenly flicked on in the far corner of the room.

"Welcome home, _son._"

Tom's voice was low and had an undercurrent of bitterness even though it was uttered in a sugar-sweet tone. Fear trickled through Colin's body like poison, his pulse rapidly increasing. He couldn't breathe; he couldn't move. He was drowning in a sea of despair, unable to break the surface. Something inside him screamed that this confrontation, of all the confrontations he had had with Tom in the past ten months, would be different.

So very, very different.

Suddenly, a blur flashed across the room, and before he could react, Tom's fist came barreling towards him, pain exploding across his ribcage. He sunk downwards, clenching his torso in pain, moaning as a rush of vertigo hit him. He heard his foster father's footsteps scruff across the carpet, the sinister chuckle reverberating through his pounding head.

"Did you have a fun vacation?" Tom had bent down to Colin's level, his words slithering through the warlock's ear, hot breath tickling his cheek. "How's that Santiago fella doing?" The older man pulled away, but Colin kept his eyes closed.

His ears, having become accustomed to the sound of footsteps outside of his door, strained to hear the heavy thuds and the light whooshes of air stirring signaling that Tom was moving, but they never came. Cautiously, he raised his head only to meet a fist to the face. Colin curled in on himself, trying to protect whatever he could, but it was useless as Tom strode off into the kitchen. He could hear the soft clinks of silverware and the _slam_ of a drawer. Before he knew it, a hand had gripped a handful of his hair, dragging him in the direction of the living room.

Colin's legs gave out, and his head screamed in agony. He gritted his teeth together against the pain and seized his strength, defiance filtering through his body, and he pulled back suddenly. It startled Tom when he put up a struggle, and his foster father tried to regain his grasp on the seventeen-year-old.

"_Leave me alone_!" Colin cried out as Tom loomed over him.

"You're not getting off that easy, Colin," Tom sneered, withdrawing a silver knife from behind him, running the flat edge along the young boy's cheekbone. "No… You see, Colin, it's my _duty_ to keep you in check, and I just have to make sure I don't loose you, or it'll be my head on a stick."

A shiver ran down Colin's spine, and he fought even harder against Tom's hold. It only caused him to jar his old injuries. He bit his lip to hold back a cry of pain, hissing through gritted teeth. The world went spiraling out of control as Tom pulled up to his feet and sent him sprawling into the living room. He landed on his dislocated shoulder, and a small whimper escaped. He tried once more to scramble away and only stopped when the knife pressed into the base of his neck. He snapped his eyes open, staring deep into Tom's malicious brown ones.

"You don't want me to hurt Laura and Joe, do you?" Tom murmured, dragging the knife across the warlock's neck. "It'd be so _easy_. I'd just enter Laura's room, right now, while she's asleep. You'd come with me, of course. I'd cut open her throat while you watched, and you'd try to stop the blood, but there'd be _so much_. It'd stain e_verything_. So much _blood_… And think of her _pain_… Think of _Joe's_ pain… You did promise to protect them, after all… How would it feel, Colin? How would it feel – to know that _you_ caused her death?"

Colin was unable to breathe as the image seared into his brain. He could feel the knife zigzagging up his neck, but he paid no attention to it. All he could think of was sweet, innocent Laura caught up in a situation that she had no control over. He pictured himself hovering over her, blood staining the sheets beneath her still body. Her skin would turn a porcelain color, making her appear to be more fragile than she had ever been in her life. Her brown eyes, clouded with terror, widened as death took over. Joe's own azure eyes would be unforgiving. They had promised to protect Laura; Colin wouldn't let anything hurt her!

"_You won't touch her_," Colin seethed, eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Watch me," Tom responded, and he tried to stand, bringing Colin with him.

The teenager only had one option left. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs to their full capacity, and bellowed out, "_Laura! Run! Get out of here_!"

The scream echoed through the apartment, and Colin could hear someone making a mad dash down the hallway towards him. He wanted to yell at them to go out the window, leave the apartment and go to Richard's clinic a few blocks away. The doctor had already promised to protect the three foster children. Colin hoped it was Joe coming to his rescue; he'd saved the warlock before. However, last time Tom had been drunk; there was no denying the fact that, this time, their foster father was sober.

Tom leaned down and pressed his mouth to Colin's ear. "Oh, you shouldn't have done that. _Oh, Colin_." He sighed helplessly. "Now there really will be blood spilled tonight." His voice was a growl, and Colin couldn't mask the tremor that shot through him.

"No, ple-" Tom clasped his hand over Colin's mouth, preventing his protest from being heard.

_"Get away from him, Tom."_

Laura stepped into view, and suddenly, Colin lost all grip on his sanity. He saw Tom smirk threateningly, and a spike of fear lurch across Laura's face. He reacted on instinct, his magic rushing to the surface. He had no time to pause and consider the outcome of his actions; all he knew was that he needed to prevent Tom from getting to Laura. His eyes flared a molten gold, hand outstretched, pressing against his foster father's chest. The man barely had the time to so much as widen his eyes in disbelief before he was sailing across the room, his back hitting the wall with a solid thud.

Colin bolted to his feet, swaying slightly, but managed to make his way to Laura without any hindrance. She grabbed his arm in blind panic, holding him tightly, her body shaking with horror. "_You used magic_!" she gasped out, and Colin's world took a turn for the worst. However, at seeing his panic, she quickly reassured him. "No! _No, Colin_! I already knew! _I've always known_! We… _Get Joe!_ We need to get out of here!"

Laura may have continued talking, but Colin could hear nothing over the blood pounding past his ears. She knew. The girl who loved him had accepted _who he was_, his _abnormalities_, his _magic_. Colin felt like he was in heaven, soaring past cloud nine, on his way to cloud ten. His heart thumped at the speed of a hummingbird's wings, and he felt the bubble of joy build in his throat until it was about to burst. He wanted to engulf Laura into his arms and never let her go. He wanted to….

A dark chuckle was heard behind them, and Colin's heart thundered to a halt. He didn't dare think twice as he positioned himself between Laura and Tom. The world had come to a stand-still, and yet he remained the man who couldn't be moved. He wouldn't leave Laura in danger with the apathetic sociopath.

A smirk played over Tom's lips. "_Dear me_… It looks like a pretty girl came to the wrong gun fight." He raised the knife as if he was placing his weapon at an art school to impress his peers. "Step away, Colin, if Laura here wants to join in the fun-"

"Leave her alone! Leave us _all_ alone!" Colin said.

Tom's eyes traveled over to the duo just as Laura lowered her hand, clutching Colin's t-shirt between her fingers. He snickered, shaking his head. "Are you two… _together?_ Well, well, Colin. You've certainly been busy." He cocked his head to the side as if observing an experiment. "Knocked her up yet?"

Colin growled lowly under his breath, his gaze flickering from Laura's hand to Tom's knife. "You'd know, wouldn't you?" he retorted, desperate to divert Tom's attention "You always bring that blonde around… Emilie? Yeah, how many _bastards_ have you sired with _her_?"

There was no time to stop him. At those words, Tom lunged at Colin, hand outstretched, ready to drive the knife through his heart. He flinched back and managed to turn around, shielding Laura from their foster father's attack. Suddenly, he saw Joe scrambling towards his sister and roommate, intent on stopping the assault, and before he had time to react, the younger man had shimmied between Colin and the oncoming knife.

Tom's eyes widened and a smug smile adjourned his face as he twisted the knife which was currently embedded in Joe's chest.

"_No! No_!" Laura shrieked, attempting to grab her brother, but Colin held her back, numbness shooting through his body. "Joe! _Joe!"_

Tom pulled the knife out of Joe, and Colin saw red. He opened his mouth and roared, magic following his scream, mixing with the heartbreak he was currently facing. The room shook with the sound, power vibrating through the apartment. It sent Tom flying once more into the opposite wall, and it provided Colin to regain his bearings, thoughts flooding his mind a million miles per second.

He'd go to Richard's… No, he couldn't. He needed to get away, hide them both. _Joe…_ He cast a fleeting glance over his shoulder at the boy who had quickly become his brother in the two months he had known him, the person who knew his fears and insecurities, the person who carried a burden almost as big as his own… Colin would miss his friend terribly, and he didn't know how long it would take to recover from his dead.

Joe's blue eyes gazed back at them, glazed over with so many emotions it was a wonder that he could see. "M-Merlin," he stammered in a weak voice, and Colin leaned closer to the boy. "I'm… _I'm scared_."

Joe was dying, Colin realized, so he didn't correct the younger man's name. He was confused and terrified; Colin couldn't blame him. He was scared too. "You…" Colin had to offer him some form of comfort. "You're not going to die."

Joe chuckled, a thin trail blood slipping from the corner of his mouth. "Y-You're a good man, C-Colin. A great man… You'll… _It'll all be okay one day_."

_"You're a good man, Merlin. A great man. And one day, you're going to be servant to a great king. Now you can still make that happen." _

Colin shook off the phantom words, choosing to run a tender hand through Joe's shaggy, blonde hair. Laura mimicked his actions, her sobs breaking his heart. "Protect… her." Joe said between gasps for air. "Take… Take care of her… She's… She's _yours_ now." Colin nodded in understanding and gave Joe's hand a reassuring squeeze. "One… more… thing… you need… _to know_." He adjusted his body with what little strength he had left so that he was staring his foster brother straight in the eyes. "_I… I remember, C-Colin_."

Joe's eyes rolled back into his head, and his hand fell out of Colin's limp grasp. He was dead.

Colin stifled a cry and pulled Laura closer to him. The two didn't have time to mourn, however, as Tom unexpectedly lunged across the room, forcefully digging the knife into Colin's side. Laura's screech of protest rang out, and Colin felt the blood begin to flow from the wound. However, he paid little attention to it and merely pushed himself to feet, pulling Laura with him. He was running on pure adrenaline; he wasn't going to let Tom take away Laura.

He grabbed their winter jackets from the coat rack and headed out the door. Tom followed them, and Colin ran towards the staircase that would take them out the back exit. They bolted down the first set of stairs, Tom at their heels. Colin couldn't move any faster, and Laura was terrified, a lost puppy merely tailing the one who was supposed to protect her.

And then, all at once, everything exploded.

Tom gave Laura a hard shove from behind, and she went tumbling, head over heels, down the staircase. Colin didn't even know it was possible to scream so loud, but he turned to face Tom, his eyes already glowing, and the man went sailing back up the staircase. He crashed into the wall, and this time, he didn't move. Colin didn't want to risk the spare time, though, and picked up Laura's still figure, noticing the blood gushing from her temple.

She was injured; she could be dying.

He didn't know what he would do if he lost her.

He rushed out onto the New York streets, running blindly with no destination in mind. His world was starting to blink out of existence, the shock of the night taking over his entire being. _Protect Laura. Protect Laura._ It became his constant motto and one he would not divert from. There was too much noise, too many thoughts. Everything was fuzzy and disorienting. Joe's death was fading from his mind, but the questions still raced through his head. Why had he been too slow? Why couldn't he protect Joe? Why couldn't he have stopped Laura from Tom? What good was his magic if it couldn't protect the ones he cared about?

Pure determination was the only thing that kept him going, and he ducked into an alleyway after a short few minutes of running. He placed Laura down in the corner of the alley before turning to make sure no one had followed them. When he was aware that no one could see him, he grabbed a few pieces of trash and, using his magic, lit a fire. He wasted no time in wrapping Laura's still form in her jacket. He slipped into his own and sat back, his gaze transfixed on the neckline of her pajama shirt, the bright scarlet staining it in a mesmerizing pattern.

He leaned back against the dumpster, losing all feeling and thought for everything around him. He had failed. _He had failed_. He felt like a puppet cut from its strings, unable to bring himself to act out his desires. His heart resumed its anxious _pitter-patter_ for what was to come, but Colin couldn't bring himself to care. He had forgotten just how much it hurt to suffer from so much loss. After the past two months, feeling as if he had found a home and a family, it had all come undone.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream to the heavens for cursing him in this life.

He wanted to destroy everything that ever caused him pain, but instead, he merely resigned himself to the exhaustion that was consuming him.

Suddenly, movement at the end of the alley caught his attention. He saw three figures walking towards him, and part of him noted that this was the same alley he had found himself in last December. There was a back entrance to a popular night club here.

Colin huddled closer to the fire, warming his hands over the open flame, attempting to shield Laura from view. The trio of men wandered further down the alleyway, their rambunctious laughter singing to the tune of his thundering heartbeat. As one stumbled over his drunken feet, the others reached out to steady him, and Colin felt a flash of recognition flicker in him. Something pulled him towards the group of friends, drawing him into a feeling of comfort and safety, telling him that it was alright to seek aid from them.

For some unknown reason, Colin decided to act on the mysterious feeling, calling out in a hoarse voice, "_Please_… _Help us_."

It caught the men's attention. Their gazes locked on his shivering form and Laura's still one. Before he had time to fully comprehend the current situation, one of them dashed forward at a blinding speed, stamping out the burning newspaper in the process. Hands clutched at Colin's sweatshirt, and he found himself staring into the dark eyes of Santiago. A wry smile wormed its way onto the warlock's face as he chuckled lowly in the back of his throat. Santiago felt his body shiver, and instinctively he mistook the movement as a reaction to the bitter cold. The older man tore the winter coat off his own back and nestled it around Colin, attempting to bring some warmth back into his limbs.

"How is it," Santiago gasped as he fumbled to zip up the jacket, "That I always seem to find you in the allies?"

"D-Destiny, I guess," Colin replied, licking his dry lips.

Santiago laughed and gestured towards his friends (Colin recognized one as his roommate from the first night Santiago save his life) to check on Laura. "Well, let's make this a two-time thing, alright?" He swung Colin's arm over his shoulder, rocked back on his haunches, pushing off the ground, and brought them both to their feet.

Glancing over at Laura, Colin saw Santiago's friends maneuvering her onto the roommate's back. "B-Be caref-ful with her. T-Tom p-p-pushed her d-down the stairs." He cast Santiago a panicked look, concern and worry etched across his face. "S-She won't wake up."

Santiago turned towards his friends, cautioning them with her injured body. "Let's get them back to the apartment. They can-"

"_No_," Colin slurred, his world tilting on its axis. "Tom _knows_. H-He knows about y-you. He'll f-find you. Y-You… H-He'll l-look for us there. You c-cant go home."

The roommate's voice sounded over his confusion, and Colin struggled to make out the blur of words. "… Dad knows…? How…? Are we… danger… like….? Where…go? Where… is… _safe_?"

"Richard's," Colin whispered under his breath, but he knew Santiago could hear him, "_S-Safe at Richard's_."

By this time, Colin could barely keep his eyes open; the surrounding's colors and shapes were wavering furiously before him. His body felt heavy, like he was carrying a wooden cross on his back, and he vaguely wondered how he was still moving. He concentrated on placing one foot in front of another, merely following Santiago's movements until they reached the sidewalk. He could hear the man hailing a taxi, and he let his eyelids flutter shut, the lashes resting against his cold skin.

He was physically and emotionally drained; the events of tonight had taken their toll on the young warlock. Joe's murder and Laura's attack; Tom's hunt and his own fear – it had sent his world spiraling out of control, and he didn't know what it would take to fixate it in its proper position again.

"You're going to be alright, Colin," Santiago murmured, and Colin felt himself being seated in the back of the taxi. The older man called out the address of Richard's clinic and ordered his friends with Laura to meet them there. "We'll sort this out and… _Oh my god, are you bleeding_?"

Colin flinched at the statement and tried not to show his pain. Tom's knife had struck him when they were fighting. It wasn't that big of a deal. Colin had gotten away; Laura was still alive. In his mind, that was all that mattered.

He pried his eyes open and caught a flash of Santiago's hand; it was stained a scarlet color. Colin could hear him screaming orders at the taxi driver, but he couldn't make them out over the pounding his ears. Suddenly, pressure was applied on the same spot the knife had touched, and his whole world turned white. He hissed in agony through gritted teeth, clenching his jaw shut to prevent the sounds of protest. What was happening? Santiago loomed over him, and Colin followed his gaze down to his side. The man's hands were pressed against his wound.

Colin wanted him to stop. It _hurt._

Sweat prickled across his forehead, and he placed his own hands atop of Santiago's. "Stop. _S-Stop_." Santiago refused to move.

Colin had to figure out what was happening; everything was swarming past him in a blur of colors and emotions. He swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and pushed the hands away. One grabbed his wrist, halting his actions, and as he tried to look through the pain-induced haze, he saw the crimson color stand out against the glare from the traffic lights.

"Lie back, lie back," Santiago said, attempting to lay him across the seat.

_"Where-Where have you been?"_

The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, startling Colin back into reality, its tone so familiar despite the fact that he had never heard it before in his life. He looked left then right, trying to find where it had come from, but all he saw was Santiago hovering over him.

The older man was muttering reassurances under his breath. "It's fine, Colin. You're fine."

"M-My side," Colin gasped out, finally joining Santiago's attempts to stem the blood flow. Moving from the corner of the alley must have reopened the already deep wound.

"Well, you are bleeding." Santiago flashed Colin a comforting smile and redoubled his efforts.

_"That's alright. I thought I was dying."_ The words escaped so quickly, falling off his tongue like habit, that Colin wondered if they were even his.

"It hurts," Colin whimpered, scrunching his face up to show the strain the injury was taking on him.

Santiago shook his head. "I'm not going to stop."

_"You don't have to continue on this journey with me, you know."_

Something was tugging at the corner of his mind, so tangible that if he just reached a little farther he'd find it. It was a warmth so recognizable that Colin could swear he'd felt it before. The words continued to ring throughout his head – crystal-clear, sharp, and defined. If Colin gave into the urge to envelope himself completely in the warmth, the tangible pull would overcome him. He'd change, and he didn't feel scared about that fact. Through the pain and confusion, Colin stretched out towards the warmth, feeling it flood through his chest, embracing the very core of who he was.

_"Try and stop me."_

"_Colin_," Santiago breathed out above him, "What are you doing?" His voice was like a whisper, drowned out by the howling winds of an oncoming storm.

He could feel his magic, restless underneath his skin, tingling at his fingertips. He wondered if his eyes were glowing the dreaded gold, like a beacon in the winter night – bringing comfort to some and fear to others. Santiago knew his secret though, Colin realized, so it wouldn't cause the older man to leave him in his darkest hour.

"Colin, you need to stop this," Santiago said, hissing the words quietly in his ear. "Your eyes are glowing. If you're healing yourself then _hurry_. The driver-"

"I'm not sure what I'm doing," Colin tried to say, but his sentence slurred together to form an incoherent string of noise.

_"I'm not sure what I'd have done."_

He tried to reign in the magic, but it just caused the warmth to fade farther into the shadows of his mind. It seemed as if his magic was preventing him from attaining the warmth, like a defense pre-programmed into him. He didn't understand.

_"And I didn't want to put you in that position."_ The voice sounded like his, but Colin didn't know why he was saying that. Was he even speaking? Reality seemed to have disappeared altogether, the pain vanishing and leaving the numbing perplexity in its wake.

"_Colin!"_ a voice yelled, and he recognized it as Santiago's. He was calling him back, away from the warmth. "Colin, you _idiot_, don't you dare give up on me!" Colin fought against the pull; he wanted the warmth. It was safe – it was _home_.

_"So you're not an idiot - that was another lie."_

"No," Colin murmured. He was closer to the warmth than he had ever been before. _"That's just another part of my charm."_

"What's going on?" Santiago moved his hands to Colin's shoulders, shaking his to rouse him from his reverie. "Colin, can you hear me?"

His fingertips grazed the warmth, just a quick touch, and a man came into view. However, Colin couldn't tell who he was. He stood tall and confident, poised as if nothing would ever faze him, but Colin could see the burden he carried etched across the lines in the corners of his eyes. His eyes were a brilliant sapphire-blue, the azure orbs glittering as if they were looking into the noonday sun. A nonexistent breeze ruffled his golden blonde hair, the locks falling across his forehead. His gaze met Colin's, and a smile graced his face. Something clicked inside him, and Colin concentrated on his identity. He knew this man. He was like a friend. Who was he?

_"You're the only friend I have, and I couldn't bear to lose you."_

_"Arthur,"_ Colin said, the name rolling off his tongue. It swirled around absently in his head before dispersing, evading his grasp, like smoke dancing through the air. His magic lashed out, pulling him away from the warmth and the man. He struggled valiantly, only surrendering when the pain returned ten-fold, and Santiago's voice broke through his concentration.

"Merlin! Merlin!" Santiago was yelling, but Colin couldn't understand it. Was this an insult since he had magic? "_Colin, oh God_! Can you drive any faster? He's losing too much blood!"

Colin tried to call out to the older man, but his throat felt swollen. His world was twisting, turning, twirling away… Joe's dead eyes flashed through his mind. Freya's still form following. His own blood drowning him.

Like a leaf caught in the wind, Colin let himself drift away.

He didn't know if he would ever come back.

He didn't know if it was worth it.


	12. The Eye of the Truth

**Welcome** to the next chapter of TFR!

(Just wanted to note that the next few chapters might take a while. I just finished an 8K oneshot for the Merlin fandom, and once I get it back from my beta, I shall post it.

So this chapter** is a filler.** Just an FYI.

Thank you to my beta **CaptainOzone**. She's amazing, and I want you all to go over and tell her how wonderful she is! She betas, writes, and goes to school. Seriously, she does anything and everything. ***hugs***

**In this chapter,** Colin is Merlin. Laura is Freya. Richard is Gaius. Santiago is Lancelot. Eoin is Gwaine. Eddie (because I already have a Tom in this story and Edward is Tom Hopper's middle name) is Percival. Bradley is Arthur. Angel is Gwen. Katie is Morgana... (And all the others are listed in the story).

Remember to check my website **whenthestormisthrough** which is my **TUMBLR url**. I post chapter updates and some excerpts as well as all things Merlin on there.

Enjoy the chapter, and please review. I like to hear what you thought of the chapter, what you didn't like, any questions or concerns, your favorite parts, and any suggestions/comments about my writing in general.

Onto the chapter,

**Erin**

**Recommended Reading: The Resemblance by Veilwuarrah  
**

* * *

**After** TFR, I have 3 story ideas that I will possibly write next. You guys can vote on whichever one you would like to see. Check on my profile and vote on the poll or leave it in your review if you must.

**Arthur's Bane - **in which Merlin is Arthur's bane, prophecized to be the one to kill the king he's sworn to protect.  
**Once and Future** - in which Sefa is the serving girl to Queen Guinevere; she has magic and is destined to protect the Queen, but she doesn't know Merlin's duty as Emrys.  
**One More Miracle** - in which, at the end of Season 4, Agravaine kidnaps Merlin and brings him to Morgana when the servant tries to warn Arthur of his uncle's betrayal. Morgana gives Agravaine a potion to make him look like Merlin and convince the king that his friend is the traitor (follows Season 4 finale; AU end to 4x11, 4x12, 4x13)

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

_"When you were standing,  
In the wake of devastation.  
When you were waiting,  
On the edge of the unknown."  
-"Iridescent" by Linkin Park_

* * *

_Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter._

Have you ever just lay in your room, head burrowed in your pillow, nestled under a mound of blankets, and just paused for a moment, listening to the rain from a passing storm pound on the roof? For once, you would hope for the noise of the rain to continue because you couldn't bear the silence of nature's call. You would want to hear the boom of thunder, the roaring from heaven above because it was better than the chaos life had offered you. You would wish to see the flash of lightning, striking just like it had a thousand years before when the old sorcerer aided in the defeat of the Saxons, because you couldn't stand the ignorance of the dark.

Some people can claim that storms are signs of impending doom, Eoin thought, and he knew they could be true. For him, storms reflected the inner turmoil of his life, and now, it had never been truer.

The moment he had seen the bloodied form of the boy in Santiago's arms, his memories as a Knight of Camelot whispered in his ear. It had only been a few hours since he remembered the past he shared with the boy, and he already knew more than enough to frame a reason for why he was still sitting in the waiting room.

The past twenty-three years he had spent as Eoin seemed to be a figment of his imagination, a hallucination that seemed implausible but real. People couldn't spend their lives trying to rationalize _why_, he knew, because for them to get anywhere, they needed to _accept_ what happens to them and move on.

It was how he lived in Camelot, and not even the passing of a thousand years could change his mindset.

In life, one lived in the moment, paving the path for the journey they took. They needed to complete and value it. Everyone had an hourglass full of sand, and with each passing moment, a grain dropped to symbolize passing time. Eoin knew that living in the moment would prolong the grain's descent, and to realize now that he had wasted all this time made him feel worthless.

He should have been with _Merlin_. He should have been protecting him – like _Lancelo_t did.

"Eoin?" Santiago questioned quietly from beside him. _Lancelot_, Gwaine reminded himself. _His roommate was Lancelot's reincarnation_. "You alright?"

The next question: _how the hell did they end up reincarnated?_

"Too much beer," he answered as a gruff reply. He was still trying to comprehend the memories that were returning him a million miles per hour, flooding his mind as a constant presence.

Beside him, their friend, Eddie, (_Percival_, Gwaine thought. _He's Percy.) _chuckled lowly. "We didn't even reach the bar when we came across those two."

Gwaine grumbled, and Lancelot turned his attention to Percival. "Are you okay as well?"

"Fine," came the brusque response.

More time passed. More time wasted. For Gwaine, time passing always came with a bittersweet aftertaste as he was reminded it was time he didn't have his memories, but now, the bittersweet aftertaste was worth the feeling of being full, of being whole, of being complete. He could make up for the time he didn't remember. He had Lancelot. He had Percival. He had Leon. He had Merlin.

Question was, did _they_ remember?

"Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" Lancelot suddenly said, voice raised slightly, eyes flashing wildly. "I know you two well enough to know when there's something going on!"

"Maybe it has to do with the fact that we just dragged in two _unconscious_ kids from the street," Percival retorted, raising his eyebrows, breaking his "silent giant" character. "Or possibly it was the sandwich I ate today. The vendor forgot mayonnaise." His dry humor was met with silence. "Or, I know, it could be the fact that you dragged in a bloodied, unconscious Merl—"

Percival's eyes widened at his mistake. Lancelot fell off his chair. Gwaine threw his head back in surprise.

All three gazed at one another in surprise, disbelief etched across their faces. "_You remember_?" they accused in chorus. "_How long_?"

"Just now," Gwaine and Percival answered in sync, turning to Lancelot.

Their friend shrugged sheepishly. "Since January… It's like you said before, Eoin… Gwaine. He's the person who I saved from the storm that night."

Percival's face lit up. "That _homeless_ boy?"

"Yes," Lancelot said.

"Do you think this has anything to do with Merlin's magic?" Percival suddenly asked, lowering his voice in case of unseen ears. Lancelot visibly stiffened at the topic being discussed so freely; Gwaine listened on in confusion. "Don't worry; I've known for a while. Gaius told us all after Merlin died … Well, all of us who were left anyway…"

Percival dropped his gaze, and Lancelot raised his. "What do you mean?"

"Leon and I were the only ones after… after Arthur and Merlin passed on," Percival admitted, closing his eyes as a wave of emotions crossed his features. "In the end, it was just us and Gwen."

"How… How long did they—?" Lancelot began, but Percival interrupted him.

"About five years after you died."

"That short?"

"It's my fault," Gwaine announced, eyes clouded over with sadness. "Morgana tortured me, and I told her where they were going—"

"_It wasn't your fault_," a voice suddenly sounded from the entrance of the waiting room. Three heads rose to meet the steely gaze of Gaius. "It wasn't your fault, Sir Gwaine. Arthur was dead long before they reached Avalon; nothing Merlin could have done would have saved our king."

"How-How are they?" Lancelot was the first to ask.

Gaius resigned himself to a troubled expression. "Laura fell into a coma…"

Gwaine pushed himself to his feet, his friends following suit. "And Merlin?"

"He lost a lot of blood, but… he should be alright. The ambulance is on its way. You should have taken them straight to the hospital."

Lancelot was at a loss for words. "Colin said that here was the only safe place... I had to do _something_."

"I understand," Gaius said, ducking his head from view, "But it's going to be a struggle for the next few days."

"So...W-What do we do now?" Gwaine questioned.

"We wait."

* * *

Bradley had always been independent.

He rarely sought help in his life, choosing to face challenges and conquer enemies all on his own. He was known to go to great lengths to solve his problems; once, the procedure took him out of the States. He did not confide his troubles to those who would listen – Gwen, almost never, and Morgana, even less. He would muse over possible solutions for days on end, retreating into a deep reverie where almost nothing could draw him back out into reality.

Gwen called him a _philosopher;_ Morgana called him a _stubborn ass_.

Regardless of the situation, though, Arthur would handle it alone. However, when faced with the task of locating Merlin's reincarnation, the nineteen-year-old was at a loss.

The end of March was around the corner, and, after spending the night soothing Morgana after her vision, he knew it was time to take action. Seeing his sister, drenched in sweat, tears glistening in her jade eyes, reaching out for a tangible hold on reality , had made him more desperate to find his friend. _Merlin was in danger_: that was a concept he couldn't possibly fathom. His mind trailed back years - to the age where he was a King and his servant was a close friend. He remembered the old sorcerer perched on the edge of a cliff, cobalt eyes piercing his very soul, as he summoned lightning, directing the bolts towards the Saxons. He remembered Morgana's furious shriek of, "_Emrys_!", and a bolt striking her right after.

He remembered his sister's cry of panic when she awoke from her vision, _"Merlin!", _proceeding to ramble on about the Lady of the Lake and her importance to Emrys.

Merlin was Emrys. Laura was the Lady of the Lake.

It was another clue, another step closer to find his friend.

Arthur needed to find Merlin, and though it pained him to admit it, he couldn't do it on his own this time. Although, when he sought aid, no one was there to offer it.

Gwen was an aspiring artist, and while she managed to draw a portrait of their friend as she remembered him, there was no telling what his appearance was in this life. Needless to say, she gave Arthur the piece and requested that he show it around campus whenever he attended his classes. Meanwhile, she resumed a job as a waitress in the local coffee house near Central Park, dishing out creamers and sweets whenever she could in order to afford her art supplies. If one were to enter her room in their shared apartment, they would discover portraits, paintings, and sketches of their days back in Camelot.

Whenever Arthur walked through the door, he was transported a thousand years back to when he had been King, and he wondered how Gwen had gotten the shadow of the West Wall cast over the open fields before sunset just right.

Morgana, on the other hand, had slowly been increasing her magical potential, relearning spells, incantations, and enchantments – anything that could help locate Merlin and their other friends. Her Sight had been unreliable the past few months, picking up on flashes of shadows in alleyways and frightened screams. Sometimes, she would wake up crying and unable to remember what she had Seen. It frightened Arthur to see one of the strongest people in his life slowly coming apart at the seams.

What scared him the most, however, were the anomalies that Morgana was stumbling upon.

There had been a gradual growth of magic in the very heart of New York, a powerful threat that only the eighteen-year-old could sense. Occasionally, he would find her studying through the night at the kitchen table, newspapers spread about, her eyes glowing a constant gold as they shuffled through the articles, searching for some kind of explanation for her visions and the magical escalation.

The first clue came in the form of a double homicide in upper New York on the outskirts of the city. _Steven and Lindsay Duncan – husband and wife. _To Arthur, the names had no meaning and had merely cast them away without a second thought, concentrating on searching for Merlin. Morgana, however, placed the article in a file, murmuring how she was building evidence for her case whenever Arthur was ready to hear it.

When news struck of a second double homicide, Morgana came in possession of photographs of the crime scenes: one in a dark alley and another in a cozy loft downtown. _Mark and Georgia Lewis – a father and daughter murder. _Again, Arthur watched on with a quizzical expression as Morgana worked furiously through the night, once catching her asleep atop a book of runes. He tried to inquire her, but his sister refused to answer, and instead forced him to allow her to enough time to put together a valid argument before she approached him on the matter.

Arthur preferred to do things on his own, and Morgana was no different.

Everything changed, though, the day the fifth murder and an attempted kidnapping hit the papers. Like before, Morgana was hunched over the morning paper, scrawling heatedly across the page, jotting down runes and a language Arthur very much suspected to be Old English in her notebook. _James Montgomery_ was the victim's name, and it had no effect on Arthur – until he caught site of the man's photograph in the corner of the page.

"_Is that_—?" Arthur questioned, disbelief etched across his face until Morgana interrupted him.

"Rodor, King of Nemeth?" she finished in earnest. "Yes, that is, and check out who his daughter is."

_Janet Montgomery, _her picture read. Arthur's azure eyes met the chocolate brown ones of the once Princess Mithian, Her Royal Highness of Nemeth. He shook his head, unable to understand what the story was telling him. "What… Morgana, what's going on?"

She brushed off his question with a wave of her hand. "I'm not sure yet, but I'm getting close. I Saw Mithian and Rodor's murder last night and called the police station to leave an anonymous tip."

Arthur blanched in fear. "Did you lead them here? _Morgana, they can trace the call_."

Morgana snorted under her breath. "I'm not stupid, _dear brother_," she sneered, flashing him an impatient glance. "I know they'd be able to trace the call back to me which is why I used magic to teleport myself into an alley before ringing them from a payphone across the street."

"_You what_?"

Morgana slammed a fist against the table, standing upright as she leveled her gaze with Arthur's. "_Don't_ question how I handled the situation, Arthur! Because of me, the police were able to arrive to _save_ Mithian! Someone was trying to drag her out the window when they heard the sirens. The police came in with their guns, and the killer fled the scene." She resigned herself to a softer tone. "I _saved_ her, Arthur."

Very few people could understand the predicament his sister was in, Arthur realized. Having been the beloved Lady turned into a vengeful witch by her flesh and blood had framed an entirely new outlook for the brunette. She was left with the memories of her past deeds in Camelot, the result of an enchantment that forced her to switch loyalties, cursing her to develop a certain bloodlust for her friends and family. A thousand years later, the memories sickened her, and she bore the burden of those ancient times each and every day.

She fought to overcome what she became, choosing to continue on a path of good as penance for her earlier sins.

"There's a pattern," Arthur announced hesitantly, prompting Morgana to withdraw from her sorrowful reverie and continue presenting her case.

She nodded. "These _people_… These _murders_ aren't just random acts. They're part of a killing spree. They're _organized_. All of the victims had their throat sliced and runes drawn on their forehead with their own blood. It's a ritual – _a blood ritual._ The police think they've stumbled upon a homicidal psychopath, but they don't see the victims' connection past the murder scenes. These _people_, Arthur, they're from our _past! They're reincarnations too!"_

Arthur's mouth went dry. "Someone… _Someone's murdering_ people… like _us_?"

"Everyone from Camelot," Morgana confirmed, gesturing towards the manilla folder on the counter. "The four murders before Rodor's… They're connected too."

Arthur was afraid to ask. "Who?"

"Queen Annis, King Caerleon, Princess Vivian, and King Olaf," she elaborated, folding her hands in front of her, leaning her forehead on the knuckles. "Add King Rodor to the list and an almost Princess Mithian."

Arthur took a deep breath. "Do you know who is doing this?"

"_Morgause_." The response was like a whip, quick and painful, leaving a bitter taste in Morgana's mouth.

"You… You think _she's_ doing this?" he asked incredulously.

"Or she's getting someone to do her dirty work," Morgana said.

"Did you guys see the morning paper?" a voice from the entrance of the kitchen said quietly, and the duo turned to see Gwen's pale face looming over the edge of the morning paper. "You… You didn't see it, did you?"

"What is it?" Morgana inquired, sensing an inner turmoil inside her friend.

"There was a murder last night," she announced.

Arthur nodded his head. "King Rodor; we know. Morgana's been—"

"No," his fiancée replied, her voice growing an octave as hysteria set in. "_No_! Oh _god_… _This… _He_…"_ Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes, and Arthur crossed the room in the span of one heartbeat. "It's… _Oh god, Arthur_!" With a muffled sob, she buried her face in her fiancé's shoulder, saltwater droplets cascading unhindered down her cheeks.

_Was her father targeted? Or brother? _Panic seized his pounding heart, freezing his entire body. It took effort, but he pushed the musings aside. If Morgause had murdered her family, he needed to be next to her, a rock she could lean on. He hoped, in the end, whatever it was, it would solve itself.

Hearing Morgana step forward, Gwen raised her gaze to meet her friend's cautious ones and wordlessly passed her the morning paper, regardless of the fact that the sorceress had the front page strewn across the kitchen table. Morgana scrunched her face in confusion, and after a while, Arthur began to wonder if the news was physically straining her. At the height of the revelation she had stumbled upon, he hoped that whatever had bothered Gwen wouldn't interrupt it.

Things were progressing, albeit in the wrong direction, but it meant they were closer to finding Merlin.

At the thought of his friend, Arthur's heart paused, his shoulders trembling, and tremors traveled up his spine. It wasn't _possible_… Morgause hadn't found _Merlin_ had she? The image of his manservant lying in a dirty alleyway, his blood pooling around his body, a rune scratched chaotically on his forehead was too much for Arthur to bear.

Nevertheless, he waited with baited breath for Morgana to finish the article.

After a short beat of silence, she raised her gaze to meet Arthur's. "There was a murder last night… His name was Joe Smith. His foster father… Tom Ellis stabbed him in the stomach and fled the scene. He…" She took a shaky breath and continued to read. "He had two other foster kids…" Her eyes grew wide. "_Laura_! Laura Smith was Joe's sister! Tom tried to kill her too!"

"What does this have to do with anything?" Arthur asked.

"Look who Joe is!" Morgana passed him the paper, and Arthur's eyes narrowed in concentration.

A faint feeling of recognition tugged at the corner of his mind, pulling forth an old memory of Camelot. It was from the early days, back when Merlin had been a part of his life for merely ten months, when they had gone to defend his village in Cenred's land… _Ealdor, _Arthur remembered. He stared at the picture of the boy, his sandy blonde hair ruffling in the breeze, bright blue eyes dancing with frustration.

He had been Merlin's childhood friend, Arthur recalled, _Will… The sorcerer…_

"Will?" he asked, facing Morgana with confusion. "The sorcerer who defended—"

"He wasn't a sorcerer," Morgana said, rolling her eyes. "_Obviously_ it was Merlin who conjured the wind; Will just took the fall."

It made sense.

"It's not a coincidence, is it?" Arthur proposed. "He's another reincarnation, which means that Tom probably is the serial killer… He—"

"Look at Tom's picture," Morgana prompted.

"_Cenred_," Arthur breathed out. "_Cenred_? Why would he want to murder…?" His thoughts trailed off until the answer hit him. "_Morgause_. They had an alliance back then… When you took over Camelot… I mean, when _they_—"

"I know what you mean," Morgana replied quietly, "But I don't understand why they'd be working together. What would Morgause gain from these murders? And why hasn't Cenred turned on her?"

"Why would he?"

"She turned on him, had his own solider kill him before they set out for Camelot," she answered.

"Did… Did you read the rest of the article?" Gwen interjected, speaking aloud for the first time since releasing her sobs on Arthur's shirt. "He… He was there… _Oh god_!" She resumed her sobs, her sadness grasping the only outlet it could find.

"Laura was there," Morgana continued, a small smile gracing her face. "Laura… She must be a reincarnation as well. She… From my vision, she was the Lady of the Lake! She…" Her smile faltered, her eyes flickering back to the article. "She suffered from head trauma… She's in the hospital… A coma."

Arthur's breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed a thick lump. "_No_! But she… _She was our only lead_!" He narrowed his eyes in defiance in Morgana's direction. "She was our only lead to finding Merlin! You said she was_ important _to him! _How are we supposed to find him?"_

Inhaling through his nose, Arthur pulled away from Gwen, ignoring his fiancée's attempts to halt his actions. He retreated to the living room, footsteps echoing through the apartment as he stalked to the couch. Moisture gathered in his own eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He assumed he'd be used to it, losing hope that is.

He buried his head in his hands, fingers gripping the roots of his hair in frustration. That was all he could do.

Gwen's footsteps were light; it was as though she were tiptoeing across the carpet, like she was trying not to disturb him. He held his breath when he felt her hand join his, softly stroking the golden fringe away from his forehead, but he didn't want to be comforted. He shook her gesture away, digging the heel of his palms further into his eyes until black spots danced across his vision.

They had come so close. They had been so close to finding Merlin. _Laura…_ That had been all they needed, and now it was too late.

Morgana had stood in the doorway for a few more minutes before following her friend to join Arthur's distraught figure on the black leather couch. He heard a faint sniffle from her direction, but he declined to acknowledge it as a form of emotion from his sister. If there was one thing constant about Morgana Pendragon, she kept a mask on at all times, dancing through life's masquerade, never showing her true emotions.

A fleeting memory of Morgana in the dungeon, her fiery emerald orbs gazing at him through heavy-lidded lashes, made him realize that she occasionally removed her mask. From time to time, she let her passion control her actions and judgment. She was a very determined individual who always strived to reach her goals – it had been what once made her his strongest alley and worst foe.

It was only now, as he sat there, feeling his hopes and dreams slip away for what he assumed was the last time, that he realized that Morgana wanted Merlin back just as much as he did. It had been what drove her to the nightmares every night, suffering those visions just to catch a glimpse of their friend's whereabouts. Merlin had once been Morgana's friend; Emrys had once been her greatest enemy.

The revelation didn't help him, though.

Without Merlin by his side this time, Arthur had never felt emptier. Thousands of emotions erupted around him that could only be calmed once he came face-to-face with his dark-haired, bright-eyed, scrawny servant – his closest friend and greatest advisor. Arthur was faced with a predicament. It was a wall shrouded in shadows but with an entrance as clear as day. In order to continue on with his life, he needed Merlin. However, Merlin wasn't in his life this time.

In Camelot, the boy had entered when Arthur was at his lowest. This time around, Merlin was nowhere to be found, and Arthur couldn't get any lower. Arthur had his face, his words, his advice, his smile, and the memory of his magic – but he didn't have his friend.

He sighed deeply at the realization and clenched his hands into fists. Gwen and Morgana's reassurances barely scratched the surface of his comatic state, flitting past like all other thoughts at the current moment.

Merlin would have been able to get through to him, but again, the younger man was nowhere to be found. They had lost their only chance, and with that, any hopes of finding him were gone with her as well.

"_Arthur_!" Gwen suddenly yelled, her voice resounding through his head, pulling him from his reverie. "You need to _calm down_! You're having a panic attack!"

Arthur was vaguely aware of the way his shoulders were heaving forward as his body tried to draw in more oxygen, the air like sweet nectar for his burning lungs. "You… _You don't understand!" _he gasped out, desperate to make them comprehend how he felt. "He-He means _everything_ to me! He's my friend! _I need him_! I feel like part of _myself_ is missing!"

He paused, taking a deep breath, before continuing his outburst. "He's… He was always there for me whenever I needed him! He wasn't like anyone I'd ever met before. Even when we first met, he had the _nerve_ to speak his mind, go against my orders, and I _needed_ that! He _changed_ me! He—He was the one who had been with me the longest, the only one, at certain times, that _cared_. He was with me through every step of the way, and I _never_ got to thank him enough… I… _God, I died in his arms_!"

Arthur let a single tear drip down his cheek. "I was going to change! _I swear I was_. I was going to change for _him_! He was _that_ important to me!" Arthur shook his head. "I didn't _care_ that he had magic! _I didn't_," he stressed. "I just needed him to stay… I needed him then, and I need him now! I need to find him!"

Gwen through her arms around his shaking shoulders. "_It's okay, Arthur_. Everything's going to be _fine_."

"_Listen to me_." Morgana had broken through. "You have to _listen_ to me. _We found him_."

Afraid to budge, as if he created any movement he would wake up in his bed and this moment a fleeting dream, he sat motionless and tried to process his sister's words. For a few seconds, the room had seized to exist, and he could picture Merlin in reality, standing by his side.

"My dad said they named him Colin, right?" Gwen interjected, sliding off the couch and onto her kneels and prying Arthur's hands away from his eyes. "_Remember_?" She managed a small smile, tears still leaking from the corners of her eyes, but instead of sadness, they were of joy. "The attack – Tom's attack – there was a boy named Colin there. Colin survived… He's in the hospital right now, in their care, but we… I-I think it's him, Arthur… _I know it's him_."

With a hand resting lightly against Gwen's cheek, he tried to regain his bearings on reality. He turned his head to face Morgana, her own eyes swimming with unshed tears. He muttered about the impossibility of the situation under his breath, but he knew it was _entirely_ possible. That was possible.

If they had found Merlin…

"I _need _it to be hi—" The final word of his plea wedged itself somewhere between his head and his heart, leaving him tongue tied and unable to finish the statement.

He didn't need to, though, because his eyes said it all, and they all say that one's eyes are the windows to one's soul.

They had_ finally_ found Merlin.


	13. A Herald of an Old Age

**Welcome** to the next chapter of TFR!

I shall apologize for the wait and give you the new chapter as an "I'm sorry I let you all down with my once-a-week updating schedule."

**CAPTAIN OZONE **again is my lovely beta.

**In this chapter,** Colin is Merlin. Richard is Gaius. Santiago is Lancelot. Eoin is Gwaine. Eddie (because I already have a Tom in this story and Edward is Tom Hopper's middle name) is Percival. Rupert is Leon. Bradley is Arthur. Sarah is Catrina. Tony is Uther. Rick is Tristan (Tristan, Arthur's uncle).

Remember to check my website **whenthestormisthrough** which is my **TUMBLR url**. I post chapter updates and some excerpts as well as all things Merlin on there.

Enjoy the chapter, and please review. I like to hear what you thought of the chapter, what you didn't like, any questions or concerns, your favorite parts, and any suggestions/comments about my writing in general.

Onto the chapter,

**Erin**

* * *

**After** TFR, I have 3 story ideas that I will possibly write next. You guys can vote on whichever one you would like to see. Check on my profile and vote on the poll.

**For now, **you can check out an 8K AU Merlin oneshot I wrote called **Alright, Fine, and Other Words of Wellness**. I am currently writing its sequel **Good, Better, and Other Words of Condition.**

* * *

Chapter Twelve

"It happens in a blink,  
It happens in a flash,  
It happened in the time  
It took to look back."

-"Blink" by Revive

* * *

It had been a fairly typical morning until Sarah's call came in.

For the first time in a long while, the sun graced the morning, dancing above the horizon. Colors of gold, orange, and pink stemmed from said star, blinding the citizens with its glare. The light shined through the transparent glass of the windows in Uther's hotel room, filling the space with a rainbow of morning brightness, he awoke at early hour when it was just breaking dawn.

The lawyer had started preparing himself for the day ahead, gathering the necessary supplies and breakfast before joining Gaius to begin their search for Hunith. Uther had pulled out a comfortable suit and dressed quickly, adjusting the collar of his trench coat because, even as spring approached, the cold temperatures of the winter season still lingered. As he grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door, the shrill sound of his cell phone rang out into the empty room.

With a practiced movement, he dug into his pocket and withdrew his phone. "Hello?" he said without even glancing at the caller ID. "Tony James, speaking."

"Tony," a hoarse voice answered, its tone wavering as if the caller was attempting to hold back a rolling tide of emotion. "Tony… It's Sarah - Sarah Parker. I'm calling because… Uhm… There's been an accident… Colin—He's… Uhm… He's…"

Uther's breath caught in his throat. "Sarah, what happened? Is everything alright?"

There were tears in her voice. "Tony, it's Tom. He got them. Oh god…"

"Calm down. Sarah—Sarah." Uther tried numerous times to console the social worker, but his only answer was her continuous sobs on the other end. "Where—Where are you?"

"T-The hospital off of 44th," she answered.

Uther heard muffled noises from the other side as he exited his hotel room as swiftly as possible, hailing a taxi when he reaching the street curb. "Sarah—Sarah, tell me what happened." Uther kept up the constant mantra as the woman attempted to elucidate the current predicament over the phone; however, she was unable to provide the lawyer with a coherent explanation. "I'm getting into a taxi right now. I'll be there in fifteen minutes…"

"Oh, o-okay," Sarah responded, sniffling.

"Will you be alright?" Uther added as an afterthought. "Is someone there with you?"

"R-Richard's h-here too," she said. "H-he brought C-Colin and L-Laura in." Uther was amazed that she had managed to form a lucid reply considering the hitches in her breath. It was clear she was going to lose it again.

"I'll be there soon. Just calm down," Uther stressed. "Drink some water or something-anything to take your mind off of whatever happened."

Sarah agreed to his terms and hung up before Uther could administer another word. With a sigh, the lawyer shoved his phone into his coat pocket, leaning back in the seat and pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger – any means to channel his frustration. He didn't understand how things could have fallen apart so quickly when they had been making enormous progress. All they had to do was find that boy's mother and have her sign over her parental rights—then Colin would have been free for adoption.

Uther clenched one hand into a fist and banged it against the window of the taxi. "Damn it," he cursed under his breath when a sharp pain erupted in the limb, throbbing in time with his racing heart. He knew needed to express his irritation with the situation at hand, but, as a grown adult, he knew that punching windows wasn't exactly the ideal way to do so.

Part of Uther desperately wished that he didn't have to deal with this case, but he knew he had to see it through until the end. If he could, Uther would have given up on this case long ago; he didn't deal with adoption cases but rather homicides and the occasional drug heist. He wasn't fit for family court, but Gaius was his friend; he owed the older man after everything he had done back in Camelot.

More importantly, however, he owed his son.

Even if Gaius was his friend, Uther might have backed down from it eventually, but he pushed himself because he would have shamed himself if he dropped it. However, Uther didn't give up on Colin's case because of his own pride—no—he kept it because he owed it to Arthur.

Ever since he had admitted to regaining his memories, Arthur had distanced himself from his father. Even though Uther himself had given his son and daughter the space necessary to deal with the onslaught of returning memories and past faults, when he tried to contact Arthur shortly after returning to New York City, the nineteen-year-old had turned him away. Uther knew that the teenager needed time to digest everything, but he honestly hadn't thought it would take almost three months for everything to be sorted out.

He wanted a chance to repair the shambles their father-son relationship had become.

Sure, most of it was his own fault by forcing his own dreams and expectations on Arthur, but his son had acted on his own accord and refused to go along with their plan, moving to the city after one semester at law school. It disappointed Uther that Arthur threw away his promising future for a career he still wasn't certain about. In the conversation that followed the realization that both had their memories, Arthur had admitted that he wasn't sure about the course he was currently traveling. Whether or not he would end up pursuing a career as a writer, Arthur had no idea, but he had made it clear that he would pave his own path—Uther's expectations be damned.

That was the last time he had spoken to his son.

He knew that Arthur had always been an independent child, especially apparent in the last few months. Dropping out of Harvard and moving to New York had placed a strain on their relationship, but Uther was taking the necessary measures to repair it—if only Arthur would contribute to the reconstruction. Uther knew he wasn't the greatest of fathers, but he was trying so very hard to make up for everything.

In their past lives and in this life, which was why he couldn't give up _this case._

_I am going to find the rest of my friends,_ Arthur had told him. Uther knew he meant his knights—from commoners to nobility—as well as his manservant. Even when he was King, it was obvious to Uther that his son cared about his servant. The scrawny young boy who had saved Arthur's life had managed to weasel his way into his heart. There was no denying that Arthur found a friend in Merlin, and Uther wasn't going to take that away from him in this life.

Uther had found Merlin in Colin, and he was determined to help Gaius adopt the boy so that Arthur would finally be able to meet his friend without any danger. He would have told his son of whom he had found, but he feared of how Arthur would react. Merlin didn't remember anything—Gaius could vouch for him.

He was doing this for Arthur, and in the end, that made it all worth it.

* * *

Santiago had never been particularly patient.

It was an obstacle everyone faced every once and while, and he wasn't afraid to admit that he suffered from it on a daily basis—ever since he rescued Colin that bitter December night. He constantly found himself worrying over the younger boy's well-being, wondering where he was in the city and how he was doing in life. However, he refused to let his impatience become his downfall. Before he regained his memories, Lancelot had been known to be as reckless as they came, but after he found and lost his old friend, he turned over a new page. He knew he needed to be patient and pray that fate would rectify the situation since he was unable to do anything. Colin's foster father had warned Lancelot that if he interfered with Colin's home-life, he would involve the police.

Lancelot took that as a hidden meaning that things would become worse for Colin.

So, against his better judgment, Lancelot kept his distance from his old friend, hoping that it would somehow help the young warlock in the grand scheme of things. However, here he was three months later-Colin's blood staining his skin-and the ex-knight couldn't help but wonder if there could have been another way.

It had been one hour since they transferred Colin to Skylark Memorial.

_One hour._

Lancelot continued to pace the entire length of the waiting room as the clock ticked on—_back and forth, back and forth._ His brown eyes constantly flickered towards the doors that led to the patient's rooms. Every now and then, a doctor would enter through those doors and deliver news to awaiting family, and each time, Lancelot would direct his attention to him or her only to find out that there was no news about his friend. Time continued, and he was left with as much as he started with.

* * *

Rupert had always been a responsible individual.

Since he was young enough to understand orders, there had always been a distinct part of him that was engrained to obey certain commands that he believed to be right and just. When faced with confrontation, he chose the most reasonable and logical path and followed it through until the very end—even if it had dire consequences. Rupert had always been the dependable person with a rational mind, so when he moved in with Eddie and met Eoin and Santiago, it was no wonder he became the level-headed guide of the group.

However, it was only an _hour and a half_ that became his downfall since it was enough time for Rupert to arrive at his apartment and abruptly backtrack when he noticed the flashing light on the answering machine he and Eddie shared.

"_Rupert, hey, it's me." _The twenty-four-year-old raised his head in confusion as he recognized his roommate's voice. _"Listen, something happened last night… Anyway, I'm at Skylark Memorial right now with Eoin and Santiago. We're fine; don't worry. But… I think it'd be best if you came down here as soon as you get this message… Just, hurry… Alright, bye."_

Rupert wasted no time in bolting out the door, hailing a cab, and arrived at the hospital in record time. When he managed to contact Eddie with the news of his appearance, his roommate had met him in the entrance before taking him to the elevator, up a few floors, and into the waiting room. Eddie quickly joined Eoin and Santiago in the chairs lining the far wall of the waiting room, gesturing for Rupert to follow him. Rupert was so intent on discovering just what had occurred that would force three of the strongest people he knew into such a panicked state that he didn't notice the older man rushing down the corridor until it was too late.

The stranger clipped Rupert, sending him crashing into a wall, and before the younger man even had time to react, the older man flung an apology over his shoulder and continued down his original path. Rupert shook his head and seated himself beside Eddie and Eoin, but he let his pale, gray eyes flicker towards the mysterious man who had barreled into him. The man claimed a free seat across from Rupert and his friends, beside an older woman whose eyes were red from the tears that still dripped down her face—slow like candle wax. The man leaned close and whispered a few hushed words; the woman drew in a stuttering breath and closed her eyes, swallowing thickly and breathing a few words back. The man reached out a hand and ran it down the side of her face, caressing her cheek gently; the woman let a few more tears fall.

Rupert had to look away; the moment was too intimate for a bystander's eyes.

Instead, he turned his attention to his friends, who had zeroed in on the stranger who had nearly bulldozed him over. Eddie's eyes were narrowed in concentration as though he could not possibly fathom the sight before him. Eoin was shaking his head, muttering obscurities under his breath. Santiago had gone deathly still, ceasing his pacing for the first time since Rupert had arrived.

Rupert himself sighed and leaned forward, digging the heels of his palms into his eye sockets in frustration. "Does anyone want to tell me _what the hell happened_?"

Eoin snorted, his gaze still locked on the stranger's form. "Bastard can't banish me this time…"

"_What_?" Rupert's confusion was like a tangible curtain, covering all his other worries. "…What is going on?" He turned to look in the stranger's direction, eyebrows knitting together as puzzlement nipped at the edges of his thoughts. "Do…Do you know him?"

"Seen him around," was all that his friend offered, running a pale hand through his chestnut mane as he cracked a spiteful smile. "Let's just say he and I didn't exactly get along last time we met."

"He's with Sarah," Eddie announced suddenly, nodding in the direction of the sobbing woman the stranger was with.

"Who's Sarah?" Rupert asked.

"Colin's social worker," his roommate elaborated before falling silent, leaning back in the chair, crossing his arms across his chest.

Rupert huffed rather loudly. "And Colin would be _who_ exactly?"

"Remember when we found that homeless boy back in December?" Eddie questioned softly. He ducked his head from view, hiding the emotion that flickered across his face. "The one Santiago took home?" Rupert nodded in understanding. "Well… We found him again."

"He'd been attacked," Santiago whispered, throwing a fleeting glance at the doors of the waiting room, which were opened by a doctor. However, the medical worker bypassed their group and continued down the long corridor. Santiago's face fell, hope disappearing little by little. "His foster father… He…"

"The fucking_ bastard_ fucking _stabbed_ him is what happened," Eoin hissed, narrowing his eyes in defiance. "It's not that hard to explain. Mer—_Colin_ was just lucky we were there to save his sorry ass."

"_Eoin_!" Santiago snarled, nudging his friend's shoulder.

"He asked what happened," Eoin deadpanned. "Didn't see you answering the question without a ten minute stutter."

"The profanities aren't necessary," his roommate defended, throwing his hands into the air with exasperation. "Honestly—"

"I think you should both _calm_ the _fuck_ down," Eddie interrupted, gesturing towards the man and woman seated across from the group.

The woman, Sarah, cast them a perplexed look before her brown eyes slowly filled with tears, and she closed them, digging a deeper hole into her pit of grief. The man, however, caught Rupert's stare, his own gray-green eyes widening with unbridled surprise. A bewildered expression flickered across his face, and Rupert could feel his confusion merely growing. However, an unknown part of him seemed throb with recognition; a picture flared in his mind—a golden dragon atop a background of deep red.

"_My loyalty is to the King and Prince Arthur__;__ there is nothing you can do to change that."_

Rupert shook his head, his vision swimming before him, as he tried to regain his bearings. The world became slippery, but he fought past it, easily latching onto reality and pulling himself back to the present. He turned away from the strange man, eager to hear more of the events prior to the hospital visit from his friends, but he never had the chance.

_"Father!?"_ the cry echoed through the corridor, and Rupert whipped his head in its direction.

A young man, perhaps a few years younger than Rupert himself, was rushing towards the stranger and Sarah with an expression that mirrored Rupert's own uncertainty. His blue eyes flashed wildly as he scanned the surroundings, but his gaze was locked on his father—the mysterious man who was on his feet in a mere matter of seconds.

"W-What… Art—_Bradley_…?" the man questioned, flabbergasted by the sudden arrival of his son. He pushed himself to his feet and staggered towards the blonde, meeting him in the middle of the waiting room. "What are you doing here?"

Arthur stampeded to a halt, breathing heavily, shoulders heaving forward as though he had ran a marathon, sprinting the entire length. "_Me_…? What are_ you_ doing here? Colin… Mer—_Colin's here_."

"You remember?" Eoin suddenly barked, jumping to his feet and interrupting the father-son conversation. Rupert made a move to pull his friend back, but Eoin swatted his hands away. "You _both_ remember?"

Rupert felt his heart rate spike at Eoin's words, and a warmth flooded his chest as Bradley turned on his heel to face the group for the first time. He cast a bewildered look as he observed each person present, his blue eyes glazed over with wonder. When Rupert met Bradley's steady gaze, the world suddenly felt too big for him. It felt as though a wave from the Atlantic had crashed over him, the tide pulsing and ebbing as it cleansed his very core. The rush of water roared in his ears, and it drowned out all other current thoughts.

He stared at Bradley. All occupants in the waiting room stared at each other. There were no questions asked nor answers given. However, Rupert barely noticed the silence. He continued to look deep into Bradley's azure orbs, unable to make sense of what the universe was telling him.

_Arthur._

"You're fucking shitting me," Bradley murmured before letting a chuckle escape him as he shook his head. "I… Do you all _remember_?"

Rupert closed his eyes and counted the spaces between his heartbeats, keeping time as the world spun on. He was masked in a revelation he couldn't begin to understand or accept. He felt as if he could take on the world at the very same time it was destroying him. Rupert didn't know what was happening, but as a blur of pictures, images, _memories_ flashed through his mind, he felt himself falling back, the ground rushing up to meet him.

_Arthur. Arthur Pendragon._

Rupert's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and the world faded into the darkness, taking reality with it.

Bradley was_ King Arthur. _The stranger was_ King Uther. _His friends were_ Knights of Camelot._

He was_ Sir Leon._

* * *

It had been one hundred and twenty minutes since Colin was admitted into Skylark Memorial, and it had been five minutes since he regained consciousness.

Richard had entered the room with a sad smile stretched out across his face, and before Colin knew it, the doctor had opened his arms in greeting. The teenager sniffled half-heartedly before letting a soft whimper escape him as he buried his head in the crook of the elder man's neck.

Richard sighed to himself and closed his eyes, stroking the back of Colin's head in order to reassure the younger man that _someone_ was there for him. The doctor wanted nothing more than to take away the suffering Colin was going through, to honor the promise he had made regarding protection for the young boy. However, nothing could change the fact that, in the last three months, Colin had come full circle. From an abusive foster home to the promise of a family to losing it all in twelve hours….

Tears filled Richard's eyes, digging his hole of sorrow deeper. He had promised himself that he would protect the warlock, that his life would become easier, and he wouldn't have to sacrifice anything anymore; however, his plan had backfired. Richard, instead of dwelling on his past failures, holding Colin tighter. He thought Colin was completely unaware of the world around him, but as the doctor whispered words of comfort in his ear, a sob escaped Colin's lips. He bent his head forward, trying to get closer to Richard.

There were no words between them, and that was more than enough.

When the police came in later to get Colin's statement about Joe's murder, Laura's hospitalization, and Tom's criminal charges, Richard never once let go of the boy's hand. When Sarah bolted through the door some time afterwards, tear-stained face bright with a wide grin, Richard never once let Colin out of his embrace. When Tony finally brought in the papers, Richard never let his smile vanish.

He had custody of the teenager, and, once they found Caroline, he could begin the adoption process.

For the first time in his life, Colin wouldn't have to be alone anymore.

* * *

It had been six hours since Arthur had arrived at the hospital, eager to see his friend for the first time in a thousand and a half years, but his own father had turned him away.

_His own father_.

His knights, awaiting news on Merlin as well, were dismissed when Sarah and Uther joined Gaius in Merlin's hospital room. They needed to ease Leon into this new world with a mind that had aged a millennium in a minute. Before they departed, each had gone against protocol and embraced their King tightly, relinquishing them to the knowledge that they were all together once again. Lancelot had hesitated though and, at the last moment, had squeezed Arthur's shoulder in what was meant to be a reassuring gesture.

"He needs you," was all Lancelot could offer, and for some reason, it was more than Arthur could handle.

Soon, it was just Arthur left in the waiting room, despite his father's constant prodding to return home. Uther kept telling him how "Merlin needed time," "it was a traumatic experience," and "that Arthur couldn't help him right now." He refused, though, wanting more than anything to see Merlin just one time. Eventually, however, Uther gripped his upper arm and wrenched him from his seat, pulling him down the long corridor—away from Merlin.

"Let me go," Arthur hissed, casting a fleeting glance over his shoulder for any sign of his friend. "I need to see him."

"Don't start with me, Bradley," Uther said heatedly, ducking his head from view by the time they had made it to the parking lot. His son shuffled after him, struggling to pull his arm from Uther's hold. "We'll discuss this in the car."

"_Don't you understand_?" Arthur bellowed, clenching his hands into fists, knuckles white. "I _need _him! I need to _find_ him! I am so fucking _close_ that I can _feel_ it!"

Uther watched his son unwind before him and resigned himself to a soft sigh. "Arthur—"

"You need to get me into that room! You need to let me see him!" the teenager continued, blue eyes flashing wildly. "Please! He'll know who I am! He—I… I can help him! Please… He saved my life so many times; I can't just leave him when someone's threatening his!"

"Arthur, listen to me," Uther began, but his son interrupted him.

"No." Arthur shook his head, lowering his voice when a bystander passed them. "No. I'm done listening to people. I have been searching for months – _months_ – to find him, and now I've finally found him, and I'm not even allowed to _see _him. _None_ of this is _fair_. You don't understand what I've been through – what we've _all_ been through—trying to find him."

"No," Uther barked back, unable to halt his words. "_You_ don't understand."

"What do you mean?" The retort was like a whip, quick and sharp.

Uther sighed and leaned back against the car door. "I mean… Your _friend is_ in a very _delicate_ situation right now."

"Considering that someone just tried to kill him I'd be inclined to agree," Arthur answered. Uther opened his mouth to respond, but Arthur cut him off. "Why do you even care anyway? It never bothered you back then."

Uther took a moment to steady himself before squaring his shoulders and facing his son. "What I do is none of your concern," he reminded Arthur, narrowing his eyes in defiance. "He is my client, and until his adoption is completed—"

"_Adoption_?" Arthur questioned.

"Of course," Uther replied, "Why else would I—"

"I thought you were assigned to this case because of the murders," Arthur confessed.

"His foster brother's murder was unfortunate but—"

Arthur shook his head, unable to follow Uther's train of thought. "No… No… I'm talking about the person who's killing people like _us_." Uther cocked his head in confusion, so his son elaborated. "The serial killer…. Morgana thinks it's Morgause, but she's working with someone else. They killed Rodor last night, and Morgana barely saved Mithian from the same fate."

Uther felt a wave of icy water cascade over him, bringing about the horrid events of nearly twenty years ago with it. He swallowed thickly, shaking his head in denial. "That… That can't be possible."

Arthur nodded. "Annis and Carleon; Vivian and Olaf…. They're all dead." His father had not recovered from the news. "…You didn't know?"

"I…" Uther was at a loss or words. "I was trying to find his birth mother—"

"_Birth mother_?"

Uther nodded, still focused on the news his son had provided him with. "Your servant's mother… She needs to sign over her parental rights, but no one can find her… How did you find out about the murders?"

Arthur placed a hand on his father's chest, sighing softly before taking a few steps back. "Give me three days. If I find Merlin's mother, will you let me see him?"

Uther blanched. "How on Earth will—?"

"I have my ways."

Uther nodded half-heartedly. "If you find her and tell me about the murders—"

"Call Morgana," Arthur called over his shoulder. "She pieced it together."

There was no time to recover from his son's abrupt departure. When he could no longer hear Arthur's footfalls, Uther fell back against his car in shock. The memory of the horrid murderers flickered at the forefront of his mind for a few moments, and he took a deep breath to bury them once more. He didn't need to think of such things at a time like this. Besides, he had already promised himself never to bring them up again. Though Uther himself hadn't been able to work on the case because of his direct involvement, the trial had nearly torn his life apart—as well as his son's. Uther feared what would happen if Arthur was to ever find out of what had occurred eighteen years prior…

* * *

**_Eighteen Years Earlier…_**

The blinding pain and a baby's cry pulled Uther from his sleep. He bolted upright, the blankets pooling around his waist, as his hand flew to his head. He felt something slick slip between his fingers, and he withdrew them in surprise, blood glistening under the moonlight that streamed through the window. Uther struggled to regain his bearings after waking from his slumber so abruptly, but a flash of silver entered his vision. He found himself rolling off of the bed and onto unsteady legs. His vision swam before him, and he fumbled in the darkness, attempting to locate his pistol that he kept in his bedside table drawer.

"_Well, well, well_," a voice said lowly, interrupting Uther's mad dash for protection. "Look at how the mighty have fallen, _My Lord_."

Uther raised his head, catching sight of a familiar figure. "…Rick?"

His brother-in-law chuckled lowly. "Don't play pretend, Uther Pendragon. I know you remember me. Last time we met, _you killed me_."

"You… _Tristan_…" Uther gripped his head in obvious pain; Tristan had obviously bludgeoned him with something. "What's going on…?" His gaze flickered to Tristan's hands where his brother-in-law clutched a knife as well as the lamp from his beside table. The base of the lamp was cracked, and crimson droplets sparkled in the dim light.

A sudden thought hit Uther. His gun was on the other side of the room.

Another cry split the air, cutting through Uther's heart as his eyes widened to an impossible degree. It was his son. Tristan's lips curled into a maniacal grin, his dark eyes glinting with a malicious intent, flickering to the open door. Uther knew it would lead into the hallway where, only a few steps to the right, a door would lead to his son's nursery.

"_Little Arthur_," Tristan cooed mockingly. "Seems like he's being a naughty boy, Uther. Should we go give him a time out?"

"Leave my son _alone_," Uther snarled, but it was too late.

Tristan was already bolting towards the nursery.

With his heart lodged in his throat, Uther rushed after his brother-and-law, disregarding the fact that he had no weapon to defend himself or his son with. All he cared about was _Arthur's_ safety—Arthur's _life_—_nothing_ could happen to him. Uther refused to let anything harm his son! Without a second thought, he dove at Tristan, hooking him around the legs. The two tumbled to a halt outside of the nursery, both fighting to get an upper hand on the weapon Tristan held.

A baby's cry grew to a new octave, screeching through the night like a banshee, matching the police sirens tone for tone…

* * *

Uther refused to let himself be haunted by his memories.

He wrenched the car door open before plopping down in the leather seat. If Arthur was right—if people were killing them again—he didn't know how to protect his Camelot's guardian without his memories and Arthur without a sword, there was no chance for destiny to repeat itself.

For the first time since he regained his lost memories, Uther knew he had to rely on Fate to take the reigns and protect them all.


	14. Proceed to Next Chapter

PROCEED TO CHAPTER 14-

HAVE A GREAT DAY.


	15. The Secret Keeper

**I APOLOGIZE IF YOU WEREN'T ABLE TO LEAVE A REVIEW! I HAD A PROBLEM WITH THE UPLOAD FROM THE LAST CHAPTER AND I DELETED SOMETHING... WHATEVER. YOU CAN LEAVE A REVIEW ON THIS CHAPTER.**

**Welcome** to the next chapter of TFR!

I will not apologize for this being late. The next few weeks will be sketchy. I'm graduating from high school. 'Nough said.

**CAPTAIN OZONE **is the amazing beta.

**In this chapter,** Colin is Merlin. Richard is Gaius. Bradley is Arthur. Sarah is Catrina. Tony is Uther. Caroline is Hunith. Angel is Gwen. Katie is Morgana.

Remember to check my website **whenthestormisthrough** which is my **TUMBLR url**. I post chapter updates and some excerpts as well as all things Merlin on there.

Enjoy the chapter, and please review. I like to hear what you thought of the chapter, what you didn't like, any questions or concerns, your favorite parts, and any suggestions/comments about my writing in general.

Onto the chapter,

**Erin**

* * *

**After** TFR, I have 3 story ideas that I will possibly write next. You guys can vote on whichever one you would like to see. Check on my profile and vote on the poll.

**For now, **you can check out an 8K AU Merlin oneshot I wrote called **Alright, Fine, and Other Words of Wellness**. I am currently writing its sequel **Good, Better, and Other Words of Condition.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

_"I gotta have roots before branches,_  
_To know who I am before I know who I wanna be._  
_And faith to take chances,_  
_To live like I see a place in this world for me."_  
-"Roots Before Branches" –Glee Version

* * *

She didn't understand.

Gwen had remained in their apartment after Arthur had bolted out the door without a second thought, sinking back against the couch, the black leather squelching beneath her. She would have followed him, but she knew that her fiancé would prefer the reunion between him and Merlin to be between _just_ them. Morgana had disappeared into her bedroom, claiming that she had to continue her investigations regarding the murders, but Gwen had not processed the information.

She was vaguely aware of time passing, but her thoughts were focused only on Arthur.

Ever since she had regained her memories, she had studied the way he handled himself, the way he dealt with people, and the way he treated her especially. Gwen had noticed that while he was_ he_r Arthur,_ wholly and completel_y hers, there was an aspect of himself—a part that made him wholly and completely the Arthur she had fallen in love with—that he lacked.

_"I feel like a part of myself is missing,_" Arthur had admitted during his breakdown, and she couldn't help but to agree.

In their second lives, Arthur wasn't the same.

It was proof beyond doubt to Gwen that Arthur needed Merlin in his life, and then—_only then_—could they have the life they were always meant to have.

As the sun began its daily descent, Gwen found herself hidden away in her bedroom at the back of the apartment, nestled under a mound of blankets with a book in hand. Her chocolate eyes danced across the pages as she immersed herself in the fantasy before her. Gwen loved the feeling of freedom that books brought to her as the words tumbled out almost magically. She could imagine the story in her mind, so lifelike that she thought she could see it before her eyes. Long after she would close a book, Gwen would realize that her own life had once been a legend—a story that no one believed in.

Still, she kept studying the many stories written about her, the books that remembered her. While they retold her life in Camelot as a fool's tale, they always offered her hope for her current situation because she knew that, even if they had ended, the real legend was still happening.

She hoped, though, that eventually her life would become one of the fairy tales she had been told when she was a little girl—the same tales that promised a happy ending, despite the darkness the beginning brought. She also knew that her life could be considered a fairytale; after all, she had been the peasant girl who won the heart of the Prince Charming. In fairy tales much like her own had been, the characters went on seemingly impossible adventures that were always completed with a little bit of luck and bountiful amount of faith.

The one thing she wished above all else, though, was that reality wouldn't intervene. She didn't want her fairy tale life to be short-lived this time around, a hoax designed to offer false hope for a better and bright ending. Fate had given her and the rest of Camelot a second chance, and Gwen intended to take full advantage of it.

A sudden bang pulled her out of her reverie, startling the ex-Queen so suddenly that she dropped her book to the floor with a muted thud, its pages fluttering on the downfall. The bang was accompanied by a chorus of yells that she recognized as Morgana's shrill soprano and Arthur's own aggressive baritone one. Gwen sighed to herself and shook her head, knowing that in a few moments she would have to intervene before Morgana turned to magic and Arthur turned into, as Merlin once put it,_ "an arrogant, supercilious prat."_

Deciding to intercede without their prompting, Gwen strode to the door, flinging it open without warning, and stepped out into the hallway. Her roommates' angry voices rose to an ear-splitting level without the wooden barrier acting as a buffer.

_"How dare you tell him_!" Morgana shrieked, and if Gwen hadn't been accustomed to the volume, it might have blown out her eardrums.

She felt sorry for their neighbors.

"He wouldn't let me see Merlin," Arthur answered, his facial features pulled taunt with barely contained fury. "I thought he was working on the murder cases; I had to tell him something. I thought I could help."

"So you used the information I had put together as a _bargaining too_l?" Morgana snarled, throwing her hands into the air with exasperation. Gwen could sense the shift in the air and marched forward, placing her friend's wrists in a tight grasp before she could blast her brother across the room. "Do you know how much sleep I—_Gwen, let go_!"

Gwen huffed rather loudly and turned her attention to her fiancé. "I suggest that you_ both_ sit down and discuss this like civilized people or so help me God_ both_ of you will be sleeping in the hall tonight."

Morgana pursed her lips and nodded reluctantly, retreating to the sofa in their living room. Gwen followed suit, turning on her heel to face Arthur and gesturing him to join her and his sister. When she raised her gaze to meet his, she noticed his eyes, the same blue eyes that once held a sparkle of confidence and adventure back in Camelot, a sparkle that had disappeared in their second life, had begun to glitter once more. A small smile wormed its way upon her face, and Gwen bit her bottom lip, almost afraid to believe that she could have_ her_ Arthur back soon. She shook her head and tugged on the blonde's shirt sleeve, pulling him into the living room after her.

Morgana seated herself on the edge of the couch, narrowing her eyes in concentration as she glared at her brother from across the room. "Mind telling us exactly what happened?" Gwen questioned when she realized that Arthur was being equally as hostile.

With those words, he seemed to crumble in on himself, and Gwen watched with baited breath as he collapsed into the well-worn recliner in the corner of the room. "It's him. We found Merlin."

Gwen began to beam until Morgana's malicious murmur interrupted her. "Explain the_ rest_," she hissed under her breath. Gwen cast her fiancé a mystified look, but he avoided her gaze. "Tell her, Arthur."

Arthur inhaled deeply, shoulders heaving, as he leaned forward in his chair. "Merlin… Well, he goes by Colin now… I went to see him, and it turns out that I wasn't the only one."

Gwen let out a shaky breath. "Was it-Was it Cenred? Or Morgause?" The idea that someone could hurt her friend seized her heart and halted its thundering beat for a few, short seconds.

"No," Arthur stressed, "I promise. He's fine. The doctor said he would be fine… Physically at least."

"What do you mean?" Morgana asked, eyes widening in panic. "You didn't say that—"

"I only meant that after an attack like that one—seeing your friend murdered—it has its effects," Arthur clarified. "Merlin always had a faint heart." Gwen managed a small smile as she immersed herself in the memories of when Merlin had lost Will the first time around. She nodded in understanding before gesturing for Arthur to continue. "He… When I got there, our father was there, waiting outside of Merlin's hospital room."

"_Uther_?" Gwen gasped.

"As well as Percival, Gwaine, Lancelot, and Leon."

Morgana was taken back, Gwen realized, as her friend reeled in her seat, eyes widening to an unknown degree. "_All of them_?"

Arthur nodded. "They remember too." A fond smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Leon, actually, remembered the moment he saw me." There was silence as the three of them let the news settle before Arthur continued. "They left a while later—Leon needed to adjust and everything. I think they've met Merlin before. Before they left, Lancelot told me that Merlin 'needed me'…" Arthur's voice trailed off as he took a deep breath to steady himself before plowing on. "I waited six hours to see him, but then Father took me away telling me nonsense about how 'Merlin needed time' and how it was a 'traumatic experience' and that I 'couldn't help him right now.'"

Gwen stood up and ambled across the room, seating herself cross-legged on the carpeted floor, resting her forehead against Arthur's knees. She could tell that her fiancé was struggling to continue, losing his grip on his words as he tried to recollect the events of the day. She knew how much he was suffering for the antidote to his pain had been within reaching distance until Uther took it away, taking a part of Arthur along with it.

"_….And then you told hi_m," Morgana suddenly interjected, her eyes flashing.

_"Morgana,"_ Gwen snapped. She cast a fleeting glance over her shoulder; she didn't want to deal with Morgana's temper. "You don't even know the full story yet."

Morgana, for the second time that evening, was rendered speechless at the backbone her old handmaiden had shown. It had been more than a thousand years since they last saw one another, but it had been even longer since the two considered themselves friends. Before Morgana had (unwillingly) joined forces with Morgause, Gwen had been the innocent and supportive cheerleader on the sidelines. However, after ruling Camelot alone for decades following her husband and friends' deaths, the ex-Queen had carried burdens no one could conceive of.

Arthur ducked his head from view as Gwen turned her attention back to him, nonchalantly gazing around the room as though nothing had transpired between his fiancé and sister. "…Yes. I told him about Morgana's theory about the murders." He licked his lips and swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "I thought that was why he was there…. I mean, why else would he be involved with Merlin of all people? We all know how much Father disapproved of him."

Gwen cast him a look of puzzlement. "Then… Why was he there?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "He's handling Merlin'_s custody_ case."

_"Custod_y case?" Morgana asked.

"He was in a foster home," Gwen said, biting her bottom lip in anxiety. "His foster father was the one who attacked him. It makes sense."

"But why would_ Uther_ of all people—" Morgana began until Arthur interrupted her musings.

"Gaius is trying to adopt him," he elaborated, folding his hands together, placing his elbows on his knee, "He's doing it as a 'favor to a friend,' I guess you could say. In fact, he didn't even know about the murder cases."

Gwen cocked her head in confusion. "But—"

"He was trying to find Merlin's birth mother," he explained.

Gweb perked at the mention of Hunith. "His birth mother?"

Arthur placed a hand atop his fiancée's head, sighing softly. "He needs her to sign a release of her parental rights."

"But if she abandoned her son then the courts would have already released him to be available for adoption, right?" Morgana threw in.

"They lost them in a fire apparently," Arthur said, rolling his eyes. "The only copies too."

"That would explain the fire in my vision," Morgana murmured under her breath.

"What?" Gwen turned to face the brunette.

Morgana closed her eyes, hands balling into fists at her sides. "When I was trying to find Merlin, I kept having visions of a fire… It didn't seem important but…"

"That was when you would wake up screaming," Arthur recalled, "And choking—like you had inhaled too much smoke." Morgana nodded, so he sighed and continued, "I told him… He wanted to know more about what you had found out, so I asked him for three days. If I could find Hunith by then, I would be able to see Merlin." He rested his forehead against his folded hands. "And I need that more than anything so…"

Morgana nodded half-heartedly as she stood up from the sofa. "I understand." She turned on her heel and made a move to leave the room when Arthur bolted to his feet.

"Can—Can you help find her?" he questioned.

She paused. "I have to find Morgause and Cenred right now. Other people are in danger."

_"Morgana._" Gwen's voice cracked across the room like a whip.

"Besides," Morgana called over shoulder. "I had a vision when I was looking for Merlin." She turned to face Gwen and Arthur, smiling softly. "She lives about an hour outside of here in Brentwood. If you leave now, you can catch her at a reasonable hour and get her to sign those papers." She headed back to her bedroom, flicking her wrist in the direction of the door. "I'll text you the address when I find it. Just remember: she goes by Caroline now."

Gwen stood frozen in shock for a few heartbeats before raising her eyes to meet Arthur's.

She had never seen him more hopeful.

* * *

The night was too quiet for Richard's liking.

The vast darkness of the evening hour had settled in as the light of day retreated without so much as a word of warning when it took its leave. It was as if everything, even Mother Nature, was aware of the events that transpired involving Colin. Gaius had known silence for quite some time: first, in Camelot when he turned his back on his friends of the Old Religion, and now, when the person he cared about most in this world could not remember him. Each time he was forced to endure it, a sense of foreboding panic flooded his core. It nipped at the edges of his mind, and he feared he would drown in the ominous air the silence brought.

However, that feeling, no matter how horrid, did not compare at all to the one he felt looking at Colin now.

The hallway lights streamed into the occupied hospital room as the metal door swung open, illuminating the pale figure lying in front of Gaius. It was Colin—_Merlin_—under those thin blankets the nursing staff provided with him, connected to the machines, and the tubes running over his young and fragile form. A fiery, little redheaded nurse stepped in, checking the seventeen-year-old's vitals before leaving a pitcher of water on his bedside table in case he were to wake up in dire need of water to quench his thirst. Gaius was perched on the chair beside the bed, his head in his hands while he closed his eyes as if the image was physical burdening him. Before the door swung shut, the sound of rolling gurneys, hushed voices, and obnoxious beeping filtered into Gaius's ears. He was well-accustomed to the sounds since he had worked in a hospital as a doctor before Pauline's death.

_This isn't supposed to be this way. It should not be this way at all. Merlin should be at home, not lying in this hospital bed_. Gaius paused his train of thought.

He supposed he should be grateful at the very least; Colin would be out of this place by mid-morning at the earliest tomorrow, away from the stoic doctors and cheerful, chatty orderlies. His injury was healing well; the blood loss had been taken care of. However, what if there was a relapse? What if Cenred came back to finish what he started? Gaius shook his head, his fears taking hold of him. What if Colin fell asleep and didn't wake up like Laura? What if he died like Joe?

Gaius huffed rather loudly. He refused to let his worries get to his head right now. He had more important things to concentrate on at the current moment—like getting Colin home. A solitary tear trekked its way down Gaius's cheek before evaporating the minute it left his face. He took in a shaky breath, attempting to pull himself together. Colin would need him now. He needed to be strong for _his_ boy.

_His_ boy.

"We need to talk," a voice suddenly announced from the entrance of the hospital room, pulling Gaius from his introspective reverie. It was Uther. "Arthur let something slip today; it's—"

"About the murders," Gaius answered, his voice lacking the proper emotion the subject deserved.

Uther was taken back. "Y-Yes… How did you—?"

"I overheard you two talking," Gaius muttered under his breath. "Sarah had me leave to 'get some air.' Apparently, it's healthy for someone my age."

Uther managed a good-natured chuckle before setting his features. "We need to talk about what will happen."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Gaius," Uther said, "If it happens again, we need to do something about it. What happened last time—"

Gaius cocked his head as he turned his attention to his foster son, who was deep in a slumber, hiding away from reality for a few hours. "What happened changed _everything_, Uther." He rested a hand on Colin's shoulder, squeezing tightly as though to reassure himself that the warlock was still there—_alive_ and _real_.

"I understand that, Gaius," Uther responded, sighing to himself, "And it's happening again. We need—"

"I don't want anything to do with this," Gaius hissed, narrowing his eyes in defiance.

"You can't ignore what's going on," Uther protested, shaking his head with unbridled anger. "People are dying, Gaius. Last time—"

Gaius heaved a heavy sigh and adjusted his position in his chair, bumping the pitcher of water. It toppled to the floor, clanging across the tile. The sharp thud echoed through the air, and both occupants sent panicked glances in Colin's direction, hoping that they had not pulled him from his sleep. When the boy remained still, Gaius shook his head and lowered his gaze. "I know exactly what happened last time."

"And you still won't do anything about it?" Uther snapped. He gestured to himself as he spoke. "Last time, I almost lost m_y son._"

_"Last time, Merlin lost his family."_

Uther paused and inhaled deeply, dropping his shoulders as he resigned himself to an uncomfortable silence. After a while, he closed his eyes and raised his hand to massage the bridge of his nose, frustration pouring out of him. "Forgive me, Gaius, I forgot—"

"Yes," Gaius said, "You forgot how Tristan tried to kill Balinor and how Agravaine finished the job."

Uther made a move to reply, but Colin murmured lowly as he adjusted into a more comfortable position. The lawyer's thoughts fixated on the teenager, and he asked, "Does he know?"

Gaius rested his gaze on Colin; the boy was breathing deeply and evenly, his chest rising and falling in a synchronized pattern. "No."

"Are you going to tell him?" Uther asked.

Gaius pursed his lips and shook his head. "He doesn't even remember who I am. I don't want to overwhelm him. He doesn't deserve that. Not now."

Uther nodded before leaning back in the chair as he settled the argument. "I understand."

"D_o you_?" Gaius raised his eyebrow as he stared at the lawyer. "Because we didn't just lose Balinor, Uther. There was Geoffrey, Gowdyn, Alined, Bayard—"

_"I remember_," Uther cut in.

Gaius clenched his hands into tight fists, channeling any hostilities into that action. "I want to get him away from all of this, Uther. You have your son, and now, I have mine. It's my duty to take care of him, and he has suffered enough—in _both_ lifetimes. I want him to form some semblance of a normal life, and if that means taking him away from his destiny, then so be it."

Uther stiffened in his seat as the implication of Gaius's plan hit him full force. "Taking him away from his destiny" translated roughly into "keeping him away from Arthur."

Uther tried to intervene with, "Gaius," but the older man cut him off.

"I just need_ time_," Gaius pleaded.

"It's_ Arthur_," Uther protested.

The name was like a magnetic force for Gaius, causing him to pause his train of thoughts. He remembered the blonde's expression so vividly, the blue eyes wide with broken hope, wishing to merely catch a glimpse of his long, lost friend. Gaius couldn't bear to tell Arthur that Merlin had no recollection of his time in Camelot nor or of the people in it.

"Uther," Gaius said with despair, "I need to protect my son as you need to protect yours… Please understand. He's been through so much, and I owe him a chance to—"

"Of course I understand," Uther said, pushing himself to his feet, "However, regardless of the situation with Mer—Colin, we need to discuss the—"

I know," the elder man said, and closed his eyes, the image of Arthur's crestfallen expression dancing at the forefront of his mind. He heard Uther's retreating footsteps and cast a fleeting glance over his shoulder as the lawyer walked away. "Uther," he called out at the last moment, "Thank you."

There was no need to elaborate.

Uther Pendragon ducked his head in acknowledgement and turned on his heel, disappearing from view. Gaius sighed to himself and reached out to stroke Colin's dark hair away from his forehead, the skin pale and glossy with sweat. The azure eyes he remembered so vividly remained closed with the touch, and the doctor couldn't be more thankful. He wanted his foster son to remain in the peaceful thralls of unconscious for just a few more hours, away from reality and the suffering it brought.

Soon, Colin would remember, and then, Gaius knew, he could see Arthur again.

* * *

Arthur shifted his weight as he stood on the porch, peering nervously through the window of the small house, a light being the only indication that someone was home. He had arrived when night had settled, the digital numbers of his stereo clock in his car nearing nine in the evening. Raising a shaky hand, he pressed the doorbell, the resounding ring accompanying the action echoing through his head. His pulse increased. His heart thundered. Hia body trembled.

When the door opened, a woman greeted him with a smile, and that was when Arthur's world crashed. Morgana had been right. He had found the woman who had thrown destiny so far off track that it was a wonder that Arthur could piece some form of it back together. This was the person who had sentenced Merlin to foster care, who made it possible for Cenred to attack him.

This was Hunith.

Hunith shook her head subtly, but it was enough to make Arthur's heart jerk in his chest. He gazed at her with a look of betrayal while she stared back with the eyes that had once held warmth and kindness to them—the same look he pictured his mother would have had if she had not died. Arthur wanted to believe that Hunith would do anything to protect Merlin, but he knew that she had given him away this time around, abandoning her child on a cold winter's night. He didn't know why, and a part of him wondered if he truly wished to know. However, as he stood there, papers in hand, he knew that everything was about to change.

Arthur's eyes scanned Hunith in hopes of finding some form of recognition from her, and he was awarded when the woman gasped in disbelief. "Hunith," he whispered.

"_Arthur_…" she murmured and took a small step away from him. "Arthur Pendragon."

"I don't want to cause you any trouble," he replied. "I'm here because of Merlin."

"_My son_," she gasped, her hand flying to her chest in a vain attempt to cease her heart's throbbing. "_My son!_" She reached forward and grasping Arthur's jacket between her shaky fingers. "Is he alright?! Tell me he's alright!"

Arthur met her blue eyes, and they held a silent staring match. It reminded Arthur of all the times when he drifted off in his bedroom back home, reliving the memories of happier times, eyes locked on his ivory walls and wishinh he could rewind time and do it all again. Met with Hunith's concern for her son's wellbeing, Arthur found himself growing angry. It_ hurt_ to know that a mother, who was supposed to love her child unconditionally and forever, had abandoned her son to a random stranger in the middle of New York City on New Year's Eve.

"I need you to sign this," Arthur pressed, taking a step forward.

Hunith held up her hand for him to stop. "Just stay where you are."

_"Look_," Arthur snapped, "This is about your son. I need you to sign these papers saying that you want nothing to do with him, and then I'll be on my way."

Hunith's eyes blazed she processed the current predicament, letting out an audible gasp before replying heatedly, "I care about him—"

"You made it clear how much you care when you abandoned him."

"You have no idea—" Hunith began, but Arthur interrupted her.

"I'm sure you have a perfectly good explanation for it," he said, "And I'd love to hear it, but that's for another time. Right now, I need you to sign these papers." He thrust them in her direction, and to his surprise, she took them without another word.

She sighed. "Come in. I'll get a pen."

Arthur stepped into the foyer, maneuvering himself to avoid colliding with the low ceiling. Hunith's house was rather small but quaint; it reminded Arthur of her home back in Ealdor. Most of the furniture was made of wicker, and everything held a certain warmth to it that spelled out_ home._ Arthur clenched his hands into tight fists; he knew Merlin would have loved to live here.

"I can't say I'm surprised to see you here," Hunith admitted in a whisper as she came back into the foyer, seating herself on the carpeted staircase next to Arthur. "After everything that happened… I should have known it wouldn't have been that easy."

Arthur pursed his lips in a resolute expression. "What shouldn't have been that easy?"

"Keeping Merlin away," was the only response.

The next few moments were accompanied by the sound of Hunith's pen scrawling across the paper and the drumming of Arthur's fingers against the wooden banister. He had so many questions, and it seemed as if Hunith was the only one who could provide him with answers. However, he didn't want to stray off his predetermined path: he needed to help his father with the adoption case so that he could see Merlin again.

Finally, Hunith raised her gaze to meet his, and with stoic expression, she placed the papers into his waiting hands. "Here."

She gestured towards the door, eager to part ways with Arthur, but as the teenager turned on his heel to leave, something stopped him. He whirled around, facing her with a puzzled expression and said, "I just wanted to let you know…" Arthur swallowed and blinked back the sudden tears that pricked in the corners of his eyes. "I knew about Merlin's magic—in the end. I accepted it, and if I had survived, I would have legalized magic in Camelot." He licked his lips before continuing. "He… I cared about him—he was always there for me."

When she fully registered Arthur's words, Hunith seemed to crumble in on herself with a pained gasp. "_That's all he e-ever wanted._"

Arthur couldn't help himself. He had come here with only one purpose, but now the words were slipping out of him like an instinctive reaction. "I just… I have to know. Why did you give him away? Why did you _a-abando_n him?" His breathing turned rapid as he awaited her answer.

After a short while, tears began to leak from Hunith's closed eyes. "I… I didn't abandon him," she whimpered. "I was only trying to _protect_ him."

Arthur didn't understand. "What?" he gasped out.

Hunith let out a low sob. "A… When I was pregnant, a sorceress came to me… S-She said that she knew who I was—who my baby would b-be." Arthur's eyes widened. "S-She wanted me to give her Merlin, or she said she'd kill us both. I didn't believe her, at first. I myself was just remembering everything… B-But then… " Hunith choked on her cries, and she covered her mouth to repress her agony. After taking a few breaths to steady herself, she said, "She told me that she killed Merlin's_ father_… And I knew. I just knew that I had to protect him. I had… I was going to hide Merlin when he was born."

Arthur was reeling at the revelation. "B-But you told Tom that—"

Hunith sniffled. "I decided that I had to abandon Merlin and hope that the gods would watch over him. I had hoped that destiny would spare him, let him live without the burden he had in Camelot. I only wanted him to have a good life, and I couldn't let that sorceress have him."

Arthur shook his head. "W-Who was the sorceress?"

Hunith ignored him. "It killed me to leave him, you have to believe me, but I did it and hoped that he would become so lost that even she couldn't find him. After I left him in Tom's care, I went to Gaius and told him that M-Merlin had_ d-died_ so that he wouldn't go looking for my son. I've… I've been in hiding ever since… H-How did you find me?"

Arthur lunged forward and grasped Hunith's wrist in a chokehold. He narrowed his eyes as he stared at her, asking one question only. "Who was the sorceress?"

Hunith gulped, and with her bright blue eyes, she gazed into Arthur's own with a sense of foreboding. "She said her name was _Nimueh_."


	16. Hiatus

**Hello my dear Readers,**

So, long story short, I have decided to put _The Forgetful Reincarnation_ on a spring/summer hiatus. I apologize profusely for this, and I know I shouldn't use this as an author's note, but I felt horrible if I just leave you readers without any notice.

Anyway, about a week ago, a friend of mine introduced me to the Doctor Who fandom. I had never particularly been interested in this show and was actually anti-DW for some personal reasons. However, Cari pushed me to sit down and watch the show, and before I knew it, I'm hooked. I am currently mid-way through Season 5, and I started about a week and a half ago. I'm getting off topic, sorry, but long story short- I fell in love with the series.

What particularly got to me was the relationship between Rose Tyler and the Tenth Doctor, especially Doomsday. Needless to say, I was not satisfied with that ending, and I have taken it upon myself to fix it. In efforts to do so, the story has taken up much of my time. In addition to the DW story, I just graduated from high school and am trying to balance work, two softball teams, as well as writing. I don't have the time to keep this story up.

So-here is it. I am placing TFR on a short hiatus. It will NEVER be abandoned, and I may periodically update this when you are not expecting it. I'm so sorry to go out on you all, but I just ask that you don't abandon me. You honestly all mean the world to me, and I hope you can all understand my current position.

Wish me luck in future endeavors, and if there are any Doctor Who fans and Rose/Ten shippers, hopefully you can help me/support me in this project.

_Geronimo (great song, by the way),_

Erin


	17. The Awaited Hour - Part One

**Welcome** to the next chapter of TFR!

I came out of hiatus for this. Dunno when the next chapter will be. Hope you like this and that it lives up to your expectations.

**CAPTAIN OZONE **is the amazing beta.

**In this chapter,** Colin is Merlin. Richard is Gaius. Bradley is Arthur. Eoin is Gwaine. Angel is Gwen. Katie is Morgana.

Remember to check my website **whenthestormisthrough** which is my **TUMBLR url**. I post chapter updates and some excerpts as well as all things Merlin on there.

Enjoy the chapter, and please review. I like to hear what you thought of the chapter, what you didn't like, any questions or concerns, your favorite parts, and any suggestions/comments about my writing in general.

Onto the chapter,

**Erin**

* * *

**Side note (You get to listen to me bitch).  
**I loaded two stories called **Arthur's Bane** as well as **Words of Wisdom**. Thank you to all who have read, reviewed, and followed/favorited them. About **Arthur's Bane**, a lot of PM's I got told me how OOC Merlin was and how it's unbelievable and not worth reading. Here's a fun note: it is not a Dark!Merlin story. It was like that in the prologue to gain interest. That's sort of the point for the prologue: to set the scene. So there is alot more to the story than just the prologue. The entire story is about Merlin trying to avoid what happens in the prologue. Hope that clears things up, and if it doesn't, stop leaving fucking **ANON HATE** on my god damn Tumblr. Good day!

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

_"Howling ghosts, they reappear,  
In mountains that are stacked with fear,_

_But you're a King,_

_And I'm a Lionheart."_

_-"King and Lionheart" by Of Monsters and Men _

* * *

He thought his reunion with Merlin was set in stone, but things changed.

After his meeting with Hunith, Arthur had headed for Uther's hotel room, throwing the parental rights papers across the room, and demanded to see Merlin straight away. The time had been creeping into the early morning hours, and Arthur had been well aware of that fact when his father pointed it out. Regardless of the time, Arthur had claimed that since he had found Hunith and retrieved her signature, just as he promised, Uther had to fulfill his end of the bargain.

However, when Uther told his son to wait just a little bit longer, the nineteen-year-old had merely shaken his head before dashing to the hospital, despite the fact that visiting hours had had long since been over.

Hailing a cab at the late hour proved to be the easiest part of his journey.

When he arrived at the hospital, he knew that Merlin would be deep in slumber, resting from whatever injuries Cenred had dealt him the night before. A part of him wondered if he should let his old friend continue his recovery without any interruptions, but it had reached the point where being able to see Merlin was truly a life or death matter. Well, perhaps not the death in the sense that this decision would end his very existence but rather his sanity. By the time Arthur managed to locate the waiting room in which he had stood earlier that morning, reunited with his knights for the first time in nearly two thousand years, his heart was thundering on, a million miles a minute, in beat to the drums sounding in his ears. He was becoming anxious; his eyes flickered down corridors absently, searching for any sign of Merlin's hospital room.

It was the two police officers positioned in the hall to his left that stopped him dead in his tracks.

It was no surprise that Merlin-_Colin_ would have guards considering someone had just tried to kill him, but it meant that there was _another_ obstacle in his path to seeing his friend for the first time. He crept slowly down the corridor, sticking close to the wall in case the officers took off after him. All he needed was one chance—just _one glimpse_ of his friend, and he'd be satisfied.

"Arthur."

The sudden voice pulled him out of his reverie, and the officers cast him a wary look, subconsciously shuffling closer to the entrance to Merlin's room. Arthur's expression fell as he turned and threw a glance over his shoulder, irritation etched across his face. Hesobered when he recognized the pale and frail form of Gaius seated in the sofa against the wall. The elderly man stood up on shaky legs and gestured Arthur to come follow him down the hall, bypassing Merlin's room and continuing to another down the hall. Arthur followed as if in a trance, waiting with baited breath because there was a _slight_ possibility he could _finally_ see the warlock.

Gaius placed a hand on a doorframe and turned to address Arthur when a nurse appeared in the doorway, cocking her head slightly with confusion. "Dr. Wilson… What are you—?"

"I have family in the hospital," he announced, and Arthur merely stood there, watching as the nurse nodded in understanding before stepping out of the way and allowed Gaius to enter. He paused and swung around to face Arthur, flicking his wrist forward. "Don't just stand there, boy. Come in, but do be quiet now."

Upon entering the patient's room, hope swelled in his chest when he caught sight of the figure lying on the bed, but it quickly dispersed when he recognized the girl from the paper. "Laura," he murmured under his breath, and he found himself subconsciously moving forward until he was leaning over her frail form.

Gaius managed a small smile. "You know who she is?"

"Merlin's foster sister," Arthur answered, his eyes flickering over her, searching for some form of awareness. "She was injured last night when they were attacked."

"A coma," Gaius commented, waving a hand over Laura's still body.

Many wires looped over her, threading through each other until they connected to their intended machines, keeping track of her vitals and other life signs. "How's he doing?" Arthur questioned, turning his attention back to the aged physician.

"As well as can be expected," Gaius answered, and Arthur wondered vaguely how that must be. Gaius continued without prompting. "He saw his foster brother murdered, his girlfriend is in a coma, and—"

Arthur whipped his head around and narrowed his eyes in bewilderment. "_Girlfriend?"_

"Oh yes," Gaius said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I would say he's quite smitten with Laura Smith."

Arthur managed a faint chuckle before biting his lip in hesitation, crossing his arms across his chest. "Who… Morgana told me that she was the Lady of the Lake in the past... Was he… Who was _she_?"

Gaius resigned himself to a mere shake of the head. "What do you know about the _Lady of the Lake_, Arthur?"

"Only what's in the legends," he confessed, "And even then, they're so screwed up that I can't tell truth from fiction."

Gaius sighed and seated himself in the chair beside Laura's bed. Arthur followed suit, hesitant to voice his thoughts: a part of him wanted to learn more about Laura's true identity, but a large majority was concentrating on the chance he would see Merlin again.

"Merlin had been in Camelot for two years when he came across a Druid girl in a cage," Gaius began, and Arthur's mind traveled back ages, back when he was a prat and Merlin an idiot. "A bounty hunter had captured her, but Merlin set her free. He attempted to smuggle her out of the city, but she was a Bastet: a creature with an insatiable desire to kill. She killed innocent people in the lower town—"

"Hang on," Arthur murmured. "I remember… With bat-like wings, right? I… I killed her."

"Yes," Gaius admitted, his expression filled with sorrow. "You eventually killed her."

Arthur swallowed a thick lump and licked his lips before asking, "Was Merlin in love with her then as well?" Gaius nodded, and Arthur couldn't form any coherent words. How did his servant not _despise_ him for—?

"He did not hate you, Arthur," Gaius said, resting a hand atop Arthur's trembling shoulder. "He would have given his life for you had he gotten the chance; in fact, he did more times than I'd like to think about."

A frantic look came upon Arthur's face, and before he knew it, he had lunged across the space between them, reaching out for the doctor's shirt. He bunched up the fabric in his fists, but he dared not inflict harm on his old physician. "Merlin." The name rolled off the tip of his tongue, and Gaius closed his eyes, a low groan escaping his lips. Arthur cocked his head in confusion. "Merlin… Can I see him? Can you get the police away from his room?"

Gaius gently untangled Arthur's fingers from his shirt and stood up, guiding the young man to the seat beside Laura. The physician steadied him as he placed his hands on his shoulders, pursing his lips in a resolute expression. The look Arthur sent him was bordering on the edge of hysteria, and he knew that Uther had failed to explain the elder's wishes concerning Merlin—his _son_.

"Arthur," Gaius began and lowered his voice to a mere whisper, knowing he had the teenager's full attention. Arthur was hanging on Gaius's every word, and the doctor had not seen the ex-royal behave in such a way since the early days of his kingship when he was a novice captivated by any advice his advisor could give him. "Arthur," he began again, and this time, he felt an icy shiver travel down his spine with the knowledge he would have to break the young boy's heart. "You cannot see Merlin."

Gaius watched as, in the span of a single heartbeat, Arthur reeled back, and the look of disbelief he sent Gaius was so raw that someone might have believed that the older man had committed the worst kind of betrayal.

"Arthur—"

"No." Shock was the only tangible emotion present in Arthur's expression as the blond pushed himself to his feet "No. I've waited _months_. I'm not going to just _sit_ here and not see him when he's just down the _god damn fucking_ hallway!"

Arthur began to pace while Gaius seated himself, watching the younger male warily and casting a panicked glance in the direction of the hall. "Calm down, Arthur. You're in a _hospital_ for god's sake, boy."

"I can't '_calm down_,'" he snapped in retort, choosing to ignore Gaius's command. "You can't tell me what to do." How could he just calm down when he was so close to finally meeting his friend?

Gaius was a bit taken back by Arthur's reaction. "Arthur… Surely you can wait just a little more."

"No, I can't," Arthur said. "I honestly can't, Gaius."

"Why?"

Arthur opened his mouth to respond when he paused. He then realized that he _himself_ didn't understand it… the impatient urge to see Merlin, the _necessity_ to have him in his life—to be by his side. The legendary Emrys with the Once and Future King: they were the heroes of legend. Back in Camelot, Merlin had been a constant presence in Arthur's life, and for the ex-royal to enter his second one without him, it was nearly unfathomable.

The thought took him back a thousand years, just before he died and shortly after Merlin unmasked himself as a sorcerer. Ever since he was young, his father had taught him that everyone with magic was evil and lusted for his blood. To have his closest friend (the first and truest he had) fall into that category had almost been too much to bear. In the ten years he had known his manservant, Arthur had lost a lot, but the one thing he always had was _Merlin. _

Merlin had been there at every obstacle, enemy, and loss. He was always by his King's side, and Arthur relied on him more than he would ever like to admit. Merlin always had been a constant in his ever-changing life, the rock he clung to when the white-water rapids became too hard to swim against. To learn that Merlin, the one who was always the same, who was a sorcerer nearly killed him. Arthur had been so lost and so very afraid, unsure of what to do. For a man who was used to being in control, Arthur had been so unsure of what to do and of what was to come. He had been so lost.

To think that magic had corrupted someone as close as Merlin, much like it had Morgana years before, had shaken Arthur's world entirely. Everything he had ever known to true had been thrown out the window because sorcerers were evil, but at the same time, it was Merlin.

If there was one thing he could swear to be true, it was that there was no possible chance that Merlin was evil.

Merlin had gone out of his way to prove that he was still there for Arthur, trying to be his servant and friend. Arthur had been so confused, unable to comprehend how "friend" and "sorcerer" could be used in the same sentence. Throughout the journey to Avalon, Arthur had seen Merlin for what he truly was. Even though he was dying, even though his strength was leaving him with each step they took, even when his world was spinning out of control—Arthur had just wanted Merlin to stay the same. Somehow though, through all the lies and secrets that came to light, slowly but surely, Arthur had discovered the truth about Merlin.

Yes, he was a sorcerer. Yes, he had magic. But he was still Merlin.

In the end, Arthur had finally come to realize that Merlin was still the same person he had always known: the same naïve farm boy who crossed Arthur Pendragon's path one morning and called him a _prat_.

"It's Merlin," was the only answer Arthur could give, and for Gaius, it was enough.

"Arthur," Gaius said, always the voice of reason, "He needs to rest."

Arthur shrugged helplessly. "Then I'll come back in the morning—"

"Arthur," Gaius said firmly. "You cannot see him."

"Why not?" he pressed, eyes flashing furiously as he let his gaze rest on the open door. "He's my friend; I can't just leave him alone when he needs _someone_."

"You honestly think I'd leave him alone, Arthur?" Gaius asked.

Arthur said nothing, beginning to frantically pace in the confined space, nerves on edge. "He…. He was always by my side; it's my turn now."

Gaius shook his head and gestured for Arthur to resume his seat beside Laura's bedside. When the younger man had planted himself beside the elder, Gaius leaned forward and placed his hands on Arthur's shoulders once more. "_Oh, Arthur_… You are helping him."

"_How_?" His voice was full of anguish.

"By giving him space," Gaius explained, his face set in a serious expression. "He needs time to adjust to everything that's happening."

"I want to see him." Arthur dropped the doctor's gaze and turned to face the window. There was nothing outside save for a few thunderheads and the moon dancing along the horizon in the distance.

"I know you do," Gaius assured in response, his hand resting atop the blond's head. He ruffled Arthur's hair in a comforting manner before smiling slightly. "And I promise…You _will_ see Merlin. Very soon. Just a little bit longer."

Arthur held his breath before slowing blowing out, trying to calm his raging nerves. "That's what everyone says, and yet, it's been months." Gaius opened his mouth in protest, but he continued, ignoring any action the older man had made. "Damn it. I just want to see him and—"

"He can't deal with this, Arthur. Not now."

"—I understand that," the ex-student grumbled in reply, sulking in his chair.

"I hope you do, for Merlin's sake."

"Why can't I help him?" Arthur asked, confused and fighting hard to make Gaius see his point. "I can help him deal with everything—"

"I don't _want_ you to."

For a moment, the world stopped spinning, simply tilting on its axis. Arthur felt the most unbearable coldness seep through his body, freezing his limbs and chilling him deep down to the bones, sending trembles up his spine and jolting him back to reality. The seriousness of the situation set upon him, and the thought that Gaius was purposely keeping Merlin away from him hurt him more than he cared to admit.

"And why not?" Arthur shot back. "He's my friend."

"He just saw his best friend stabbed, Arthur," Gaius said. "His girlfriend is in a coma. Honestly, boy! Can't you see that Merlin cannot possibly deal with the added responsibility of your life mingling with his own?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You're investigating the murders. You want to bring him into it," Gaius responded, standing tall as he stared over Arthur. "You want him to use his magic—"

"I don't want to fucking _use_ him for my own benefits, Gaius," Arthur retorted with an icy edge to his voice. "And it hurts that you'd even think that for one moment. Merlin means a lot to me, and for you to think that I'd use him for some _stupid_…" Arthur shook his head and inhaled deeply.

He braced himself for the onslaught of the doctor's anger, but Gaius settled down, choosing to seat himself on the edge of Laura's bed, shaking his head. Arthur froze, face screwed up from all the internal bellowing and crying he was doing, hands clenched into fists as his nails dug into the heels of his palms. With a feeling of mingled dread and anger, Arthur seethed through his gritted teeth, deciding to leave rather than face the damage to his heart.

He managed to take one step before Gaius's voice shot through the room like a whip. "_Don't_, Arthur."

Arthur took a deep breath, but it hardly did anything to calm his nerves. He turned back to face Gaius and found himself collapsing in the nearby chair, the fight completely taken out of him. "I just…" he began, and his tongue suddenly felt too big for his throat as he attempted to swallow his brimming emotions. "I don't understand it."

"The bond you share with Merlin is strong, Arthur," Gaius answered, and Arthur wondered how the older man knew where his thoughts were. "You had him in your life almost every day, and suddenly, you wake up and he's gone. It's hard to adjust to."

"It's not just that," Arthur admitted. "It's like… a part of me is gone. It's a hollow feeling, in my chest… like… there's something missing."

Gaius paled a bit, but he quickly recovered. "I know you want to see him, but all I ask is that you wait."

"….How long?"

"A month at the least."

_"A month?!"_

"Give him time. Just one month, and then… Then come by my clinic downtown."

Arthur felt broken and out of his element, paralyzed with the circumstances that had been thrust into his arms. Where was he supposed to go from here?

He swallowed his retort, a thick lump following, only to get lodged. Tears threatened to spill, and he fought like hell to keep them from falling. He would walk away from this, knowing that he would eventually see his friend again. He had Gaius' promise. Without sparing the other man a second glance because he knew he'd lose whatever control he had on his emotions, Arthur turned on his heel and stepped out of the room. He was aware that Gaius was following, but he didn't stop until he heard the elder call out to the officers in front of Merlin's room as Arthur passed.

Before Arthur could comprehend what was happening, the officers had stepped away from their positions for a split second. It gave Arthur enough time to complete the journey he had set out for when he came to the hospital.

Glancing over his shoulder to make sure the officers were unaware of his movements, Arthur peered around the open door, his azure eyes flickering around the room absently until it found the figure in the bed. The head of unruly, inky black hair stuck out against the ivory pillowcase, and Arthur felt the breath leave him. The younger boy's face was etched so deeply into his memories that he wondered once more how he could have gone a day without this person.

It was Merlin.

* * *

Arthur had waited seven months since he first regained his memories, and now, he had been sentenced to another thirty days of pointless wanderings until he could finally (and properly) see Merlin.

When he first returned to the apartment, Morgana and Gwen had listened with baited breath as he relayed the details surrounding his meeting with Gaius and the small glimpse he had caught of Merlin. As he announced the truth as to how Merlin had ended up in foster care, Morgana had retreated to her bedroom, proclaiming she needed sleep after the last, few stressful days they had undergone. However, Arthur knew the truth. He knew she was looking for answers through her visions.

As the weeks passed, Morgana drew up a more solid plan. She was a firm believer that Morgause and Cenred were behind the murders, and all of the visions seemed that they were heading on the right track.

Nothing particular interesting happened within the span of four weeks save for more of Arthur's angst over his upcoming reunion with Merlin as well as a rather unexpected encounter with Leon, Percival, Elyan, Lancelot, and Gwaine.

Arthur had invited the knights over in order to enlighten them on the happenings with the murder case and the other reincarnations. They had sat around the coffee table, newspaper clippings and manila folders crowding the space between them, deep in thought, when everything changed.

Morgana had entered the room in all her ethereal beauty. Her long, raven-colored ringlets had been pulled back in the same extravagant style she had worn during the last few months of her life in Camelot over a thousand years ago. It was the only similarity that Arthur could associate with her old self. Her bright, emerald-green eyes flickered around the room in surprise, and he hoped that his friends could see the same difference he did in his sister. She held herself with an air of confident, possessing a certain kind of grace that she had lacked as a vengeful witch. Her face was alight with a wide smile, happiness flooding from her every pore.

This wasn't the same witch bent on destroying everything they had all once held dear, the same person who had gazed over their dying forms with a malicious glint in her eye.

She approached the small gathering on the couch, smiling hesitantly and biting her lip shyly. "Hello... I'm Katie."

"You didn't tell us about her," Lancelot argued, and even Percival looked apprehensive.

"Look," Arthur defended, "She's... different. She's changed."

"I'm sorry," Morgana suddenly blurted, tears brimming in her eyes. "What I did was unforgiveable... I..."

"Eoin," Gwaine suddenly announced, pushing himself to his feet. "Nice to meet you."

"Gwaine!" Leon pressed, but Gwaine waved his friend off.

"New life, new start," Gwaine announced, striding forward, "I'm Sir Gwaine, my lady. And last time I saw you, you killed me. Nice to meet you."

The rest of the group attempted to argue, but Morgana quickly won them over when they realized the truth. They were all fighting for the same thing. Things were quickly shaping up to be exactly as they were a thousand years ago, with a few minor differences.

They still needed Merlin.

* * *

A month passed.

Thirty-one days.

A month passed, and Arthur found himself in front of a clinic belonging to one Richard Wilson in downtown New York. He closed his eyes tightly, almost unable to believe he was finally here. Sunlight penetrated his eyelids, colors swirling in an intricate dance through the darkness, the light finally overcoming them. He opened his eyes to meet a vast, cloudless blue sky and a scrawny figure working diligently on the other side of the clinic window. Arthur blinked to clear his vision and managed to form a coherent smile, wide and happy.

After a short pause, Arthur pushed open the door and walked into the clinic. He waited with baited breath for Merlin to see him, silence being the only barrier from him and his older friend. He resisted the urge to run at the boy and throw his arms around his scrawny form, embracing him tightly and relinquishing in the fact that he had found the other side of his coin. No one could ever see such a thing, of course, which was why he restrained himself and waited for Merlin to make the first move.

He still couldn't believe it. He could feel the blood draining from his face.

Merlin, Emrys, the last Dragonlord, his _old friend_, stood in front of him with a bright smile on his face.

It was common knowledge between them how much they meant to one another, so he hadn't expected Merlin to hold back. This was his chance. He had finally found the warlock, and it seemed like the final puzzle piece had fallen perfectly into plan. Arthur had thought about this moment for months, planning what he would say, what he would do, how they both react, but his plans disappeared like smoke from a fire drifting away, evading his mind's capture.

"Merlin," he said, his tongue like thick sandpaper against the roof of his mouth. He managed to swallow the lump in his throat, moving a step closer to the boy who tilted his head as if analyzing the older man's advancements. "You're…"

His nerves felt like shocks of electricity were tickling their frayed ends as his friend opened his mouth and said, "Hello."

Arthur took a deep breath, shoulders heaving forward as he attempted to steady himself. He fought the urge to run headlong towards his friend, choosing to close his eyes and welcome the moment (He paid little attention to the tears that pricked in the corners of his eyes). He silently vowed not to cry in front of his friend; he didn't want to be seen as weak (plus, he knew Merlin would use this moment to tease him for the next decade or so).

"Merlin, by gods," Arthur gasped out. The name rolled off his tongue like habit, and a bubble of joy swelled deep inside his chest. He had missed him so much. It felt so good to say that. "Do you know how long it took me to find you? We've been searching for you for months!"

It was the wrong thing to say as Merlin skittered back a few steps. "You've... _What?" _Before Arthur had a chance to correct himself, the young boy's face seemed to crumble before him. The bright-eyed man turned into a frail, helpless teenager who was looking for any means of escape. "Who's been looking for me? You—You can't take me away! I've been _adopted_… I'm—I have a _legal_ home! You can't take me away! _I won't let you_!"

As his voice raised a few decibels, a vase shook on the desk, and if Arthur hadn't reached for it when he did, it would have shattered on the tile floor. He looked to Merlin to try to understand his reaction, but all he saw was the molten gold fading from those scared, confused eyes.

The air left him in a gasp, and he struggled to regain his bearings. This wasn't possible! He had been waiting all this time! He needed his friend. How he survived all this time with only just his memories, he had no idea. Disappointment hit him like a ton of bricks. Arthur had built up for this moment in his mind every waking second, and now… It was useless. Merlin didn't know who he was. He was scared, hurt, and vulnerable. He wasn't _Merlin_.

He was an entirely different person.

"You're not…" Arthur couldn't get the words out.

He watched Merlin's reincarnation for quite some time, noting his rigid limbs and impassive features. That boy was trying so desperately not to flee and face this stranger, and Arthur couldn't bear to face him anymore. He turned towards the door, his back facing the boy, and he fought with the tears of disappointment. This was it. Everything was truly gone. Merlin didn't remember, but he was here! Standing in front of Arthur with those familiar blue eyes and ebony hair, dressed in a loose pair of jeans and a green and white plaid shirt, the young boy was shaking slightly, showing no resemblance to the confident, kind-hearted sorcerer he had been back in Camelot.

"What do you want?" the boy asked softly, stiffening when Arthur raised his head to meet his gaze. "Why were you trying to find me?"

"You…" Arthur swallowed thickly and quickly regained control over his emotions. "I'm sorry. I thought… You looked like a friend of mine."

The boy's comfort immediately returned. "Oh… I'm sorry, but I've never seen you before."

It felt like a stab deep within his chest. "My bad, then. I'm sorry if I frightened you…" Arthur paused for a moment before stepping forward, the boy flinching back on instinct, and held out his hand. "My name is Bradley. Bradley James."

Colin looked at his outstretched hand for a moment longer than necessary before shaking it with a firm grasp that he quickly withdrew. "Colin," he said, biting his lip softly, before adding, "Colin Wilson."

"You're…" A sad smile crossed Arthur's face. "Dr. Wilson adopted you?"

Colin swallowed thickly, ducking his head in the direction that Arthur could find the older man. "He is my guardian." He resigned himself to skittering back a few steps, gesturing towards the door on his left. "He's in his office… I can get him for you. I'll just be a second."

Before Arthur could answer, the boy had disappeared behind the desk, and he was left with nothing but his continued disbelief at the situation at hand. He didn't understand how someone who had once been so full of life could retreat into a former shell of themselves. After a short while, Colin returned with Gaius at his heels. When the older man caught sight of Arthur, he turned to Colin and ordered him to restock some medical supplies in a random room.

Once Colin had left, Arthur broke the silence. "He doesn't remember me?" he managed in a small voice.

To this, Gaius closed his eyes and lowered his head.

There were no words to heal a broken heart.


End file.
